Red and Blue
by ZakuroU
Summary: Amestris as a nation is renowned for its military strength and the intense exercises it puts its soldiers through. So it's no surprise to the troops that the Fuhrer has announced another crazy scheme in the form of a martial father-son team contest between the five Amestrian jurisdictions and some allied countries. But what are Roy and Ed doing in the competition? ! Parental!RoyEd
1. It All Started With A Closed Account

**Description continued a little;**

Amestris as a nation is renowned for its military strength and the intense exercises it puts its soldiers through. So it's no surprise to the troops that the Fuhrer has announced another crazy scheme in the form of a martial father-son team contest between the five Amestrian jurisdictions and some allied countries. But...what are Roy and Ed doing in the competition?! The two are caught acting as a parental duo once more, mere weeks after the events of Kambei.

Amongst groups of hostile competitors, the two State Alchemists are backed up by the faithful and sharp-witted Hawkeye, the beloved gentle giant Alphonse, the ever-obnoxious Papa Bear that is Hughes and a few more familiar faces.

But with a dark threat on the horizon, will they be able to get along to protect not only themselves, their relations but maybe even the whole of Amestris? Only time and a lot of coffee on Roy's part will tell...

**Pairings?** Parental!RoyEd, hints of Royai

**Starring roles?** Ed, Roy, Riza, Al, Hughes and a few originals.

**What's going on here? **You see before you a semi-sequel set after one of my previous fics ('You're Not My Real Dad!'), though you don't have to have read that one to read this.

* * *

**GUESS WHO'S BACK WITH A BRAND NEW TRA-*shot in head***

**Okay, I know I said give me a while to get this posted, but that was probably too long. I do have an excuse - I was away camping and hiking and mountain biking for a week.**

**If you're feeling down, imagine me running into a rock whilst trying to look cool and wailing because I thought I was going to die from blunt force to the head. (To my ****trusted lieutnenant/****close friend, I said, "Written on the inside of my exercise book is my FFN password... I need you to tell my followers that I'm dead.") Though as you can tell, I live! (Or do I...?)**

**That was my ramble. Now for the IMPORTANT STUFF BEFORE YOU READ!**

**In case you're new, this fic is set after the end of my previous story, 'You're Not My Real Dad!'. It's not necessary to have read that, but I will reference a few events from there (which I'll explain a little as you read them) and it means Ed and Roy share a bit of a bond already. So, I guess it's like a semi-sequel?**

**Also, I didn't write this fic with RoyEd, HughesRoy or Elricest in mind, although you can feel free to read their relationships as that if you like. Up to you bros!**

**I hope you'll decide to keep reading, and I hope you'll enjoy if you do!**

* * *

_Dammit_, Roy thought to himself as he read his schedule, rubbing his forehead sluggishly. _This makes things even more difficult!_

"Problem, sir?" Hawkeye asked, shuffling a stack of papers against the corner of her superior's desk before taking them up into her arms.

"I still have a ton of this to go," Roy explained. "And I'll be out of the office for an hour, then there's a scheduled tour of East HQ by the general for someone from Grand Central so we'll probably get interrupted, and _after that_ I have an assignment briefing with Fullmetal - and I don't even know what the assignment I'm meant to be sending him off on actually is. He still hasn't signed in with base since he left South City. I may need to take drastic action to get a hold of him, which'll take even more time."

"This is why you shouldn't procrastinate, sir," Hawkeye pointed out. "You'd have had all this done by now if you hadn't spent the morning competing in 'The Coffee-bean Games' with Lieutenant Havoc."

Roy gritted his teeth angrily. "How does he fit that many beans under his tongue?" he muttered.

Hawkeye rolled her eyes.

"And besides," Roy added. "I _hate_, absolutely _hate_ rewriting things. With a burning passion. Some moron down at accounting lost the damages report for that last scuffle and now I'm stuck rewriting the whole damn thing from memory."

"We wouldn't even have the issue of damages to begin with if you'd just toned down your pyrotechnics a tad, sir."

"…Duly noted."

"Shall I let General Gramman know you are unable to leave the office?"

"No." Roy shook his head and pushed another stack of papers towards the edge of the table, making sure it wouldn't topple off. _That_ would be a real hassle to clean up. "Because I have to be down at the Medical Branch in ten because _someone_ - not naming names here, _Hawkeye_ - decided to sign me right the hell up for a psychologist."

"'Someone' also said you didn't have to go if you weren't comfortable with it," Hawkeye reminded him.

"You're right there," Roy conceded, coming to the end of a document and swishing his name across the dotted line at the bottom. "Someone also seems to know what's best for this genius long before he does, and I'm actually quite glad she's finally decided to do something about my stubborn foolishness."

He sighed and reached across the desk for a cup of coffee. He closed his eyes to take a sip. Hopefully it still held a little warmth.

Hawkeye smiled slightly as she held the stack of documents close to her chest. It was true that she'd signed her superior up for a few sessions with East HQ's resident doctor, but she'd only sent the final papers with Roy's go ahead. After the colonel's last big mission had revealed a gaping weakness in his mental state that went by the name of 'Ishbal', the pair had both decided nipping the problem at the bud was a good plan. "If you say so, sir."

_Slam!_

"Roy! How are ya?! News in Central is you lot are causing quite a stir around the East! Ain't much o' the Brass left haven't heard of you now, Mr Big-shot Flame Guy!"

_Shhpffffff._ The colonel's eyes remained closed as he politely sprayed lukewarm coffee across the office.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!" the female sniper's eyes widened in surprise as Roy proceeded to calmly mop coffee off his uniform. "You're back in the East?"

"Appears so!" Hughes said, folding his arms behind his head and looking around. "Got sent down here along with some guy from up top. One of the generals, I guess…taking a tour of Eastern HQ, they said?"

"Yes. That sounds about right."

Roy took a deep breath, having managed to get the last of his coffee off his jacket. A great sacrifice had been made at Hughes' hands…

"Oh, and Roy?" Hughes frowned a little at the coffee dripping down the opposite wall. "Havoc says you owe him five thousand cens since he managed to get thirteen out of fifteen coffee beans into the lampshade."

Roy stared across the room at his friend with narrowed eyes.

"What?"

"Why the hell are you here instead of flanking the general, if you don't mind my asking?"

Hughes dropped his arms at his sides. "That's the weird thing, actually. Whichever general it was came separate from the rest of the troops. Must be darn important, whoever he is."

Hughes shrugged then pushed his glasses further up his nose. "But enough of that, I thought I'd drop by and see what you lot were up to. Like I was saying, your little platoon's been causing quite a stir back in Central. That whole Kambei escapade caught the attention of quite a few important people. Word on the street is the only reason you weren't promoted for that is 'cause half the top dogs voted against it. Looks like you're making enemies faster than we can keep track of."

"Not enemies," said Roy as he slid a new document under his pen. "Obstacles."

Hughes nodded. "Fair enough."

_Ring-ring! Ring-ring!_

The three of them jumped as the phone on the table behind Roy's desk chimed to life.

Hawkeye grabbed the set and carried it over to the colonel, who picked it up with a puzzled expression. "Hello, Colonel Mustang speaking."

At the sound of a familiar woman's voice coming through the line, Roy perked up. It was that cute girl from the State Alchemist Branch's Eastern Office - the one who had that friend in accounting. _Perfect._

"Ah! Good afternoon, Mariana! How are you?" he smiled and twirled the cord of the phone around his leftmost finger as he continued to sign documents with his right.

"Oh? Well, yes…" Roy looked surprised and glanced questioningly at Hughes. "He is here, but how did you know?"

"Where else am I gonna go?" Hughes asked with a smirk.

"Of course, I'll send him right down," Roy said with a nod. "Oh, and Mari? Are you still friendly with Miss Sara Oxford from Accounting? Because I need a favour… There's an account I'd like to have closed temporarily."

* * *

Edward tapped his foot impatiently as the phone dialled slowly in his ear. His left eyebrow twitched irritatedly as Alphonse 'umm'-ed nervously in the background.

"Yes, Al, I know," Edward grumbled. "I screwed up a little. But I'll fix it. Or rather, Colonel Jerkoff will. Because it's his fault we're in this mess in the first place!"

"Well, maybe if you'd remembered to check your wallet…"

"I don't generally have to when I can grab as much as I want from a bank down the road…_usually_."

Edward sighed.

The phone _blooped_ in the background.

Edward felt a sharp tug at his wrist as the handcuffs he and Alphonse were bound with were pulled on roughly.

"So, you little brat," came the rumbling voice of an angry policeman. "Has this so-called 'commanding officer' picked up yet?"

"With all due respect, officer," Edward replied, trying _very hard_ and failing quite miserably to contain his hot temper and sharp tongue. "If he'd picked up, I'd be talking to him by now!"

"Don't give me cheek, boy!" the man barked. "I'll have you both locked away for months! We don't take well to thieves around these parts!"

"We're telling you, we're _not_ thieves!" Alphonse pleaded. "You have to believe us! We'll pay for everything as soon as my big brother can get his account reactivated!"

"Right!" Edward growled. "And you can blame this morally deficient cowpat colonel for all the trouble!"

The pair of brothers had been wandering through a market, picking up second hand alchemy books and packed lunches as they went. It was a pay at the exit sale, but upon reaching the checkouts, Edward found his leather wallet devoid of all but thirty-five cens and a button.

Edward had left Alphonse to stall the gathering security (who were itching for some action after a whole week of boring shifts) as he made a wild sprint for the bank, only to find that his account had been closed off…leaving him unable to make a withdrawal. This wasn't made any better by the fact that the pair had trailed a wake of destruction behind them the whole way to the bank, and now they had a few angry policemen, ticked off security guards, a distraught flower shop owner, a cranky restaurant manager with broken tables and a round, loud woman with a traumatised puppy.

"My poor little Winkles is trembling like a leaf!" said woman exclaimed, pouting and presenting the yappy lapdog to a policeman who really couldn't care less. "I need compensation for his relaxation spa!"

"Are you going to pay for my tables to be fixed or what?!"

"You destroyed my prize-winning tulips!"

"Bring back the items you stole!"

"Shut up!" Edward finally snapped. "Shut up, shut up, shut _up!_ I can't even hear the damned phone ringing!"

The angry protests faded to muffled accusations and disgruntled insults.

Finally…

"Hello, you've reached Eastern Headquarters. Might I ask who is speaking?"

"Elric. Just patch me through, like I know he told you to."

There was a quick burst of static.

"What's that?" asked the restaurant manager.

"I can't hear anything from back here!" called the woman.

"Shhhh-ch-ch-ch!" Edward fired back again with a furious glare.

_Click._

"Colonel Mustang speaking, I assume I've finally got a hold of the ever elusive Edward Elric?"

Edward took a deep breath.

He would go through this conversation like a gentleman, and sort out all these people in a calm and orderly fashion. Once he'd found out what the colonel wanted, he'd get his account back, pay the security guards, fix the manager's tables, replace the lady's tulips and throw as much money at the dog lady as she wanted.

Keep calm and carry on, Edward's slogan.

_Not._

_"I'll freaking _kill_ you, bastard!"_ he screeched.

* * *

"I thought we'd agreed not to close my account again after the whole Wisteria escapade," Edward said, having finally calmed down.

Granted, he was tied to a chair and wearing three pairs of handcuffs as the policeman held the phone to his ear and two officers who'd attempted to restrain him lay unconscious in the other room.

Although he'd nearly torn the phonebook clean in two just minutes before, and had scared the lady's dog into peeing all over her (she was now in the other room, wailing something about 'soiled cashmere'), he was now calm as anything.

"Yes, well… The situation is dire. And General Hakuro's _still_ on my case about that town's report, for your information. Thanks a tonne for that. Now, on to the situation at hand—"

"I'm going to rip your head off."

"Fullmetal, listen—"

"Mount it above Winry's fireplace."

"I'm sure she'd love that. Anyway, I—"

"I'll have your decapitated body stuffed."

"Fullmetal—"

"And put in a museum with a pig's arse where your head was meant to go."

"Fullmetal!" Roy barked. "Listen!"

"Alright, fine!" Edward cried, trying and failing to throw his arms in the air out of rage. "Whatever! And it might please you to know that I had no problems at all with your big bad Hakuro, so you didn't need to give me that whole damn lecture last time! In fact, the worst that happened was probably just this random blond soldier who kept popping outta no-where like a stalker or something!"

"Put a sock in it and listen, Elric. Whereabouts are you?" Roy asked, sounding irritated.

"I'm locked in a police station in Harlingdon, three quarters of the way from South City to East because you closed down my account and got me arrested for theft and destructive behaviour!"

"In my own defence, you're the one who got yourself arrested. I merely began the sequence of events that led you there."

"That doesn't change the fact that it's _your fault!_"

"If we're going to put it down to trivial facts like that, then you've got someone else to blame… Some big wig from Central's come down here with a new assignment for you."

Edward slouched as best he was able whilst bound tightly to a chair. "So it's a real mission? No leads?"

"No treats this time, unfortunately," Roy confirmed. "Unless by coincidence."

"Damn," muttered Edward. "Well, what is it?"

Alphonse sighed and rubbed his helmet exasperatedly as Edward screamed into the mouthpiece.

"What do you mean 'I don't know'?! How the hell do you 'not know'?! So, you cut off my account and nearly get me thrown in prison for a month just so you could get me to call you about something you 'don't know'?!"

Roy's voice came firing back almost as loud, "Don't forget your place, Elric! You're conversing with a superior officer here! And for your information, I'm as happy with the situation as you are! I'm going to get a severe ear-warming from the top dogs if I don't have these reports re-written on time! Hence, the more time I spend wasting on you, the less time I have to do it! So, given the situation we've found ourselves in, we are obligated to simply suck it up and obey orders!"

"Colonel." Edward barely made out the voice of Lieutenant Hawkeye past the grinding and growling noises emanating from his mouth. "Please don't take out your frustrations on the phone or on Fullmetal. And stop getting worked up - you're tearing holes in your papers."

"I'll do whatever I damn well like with my frustration," Edward caught the colonel saying, though quietly as if he were afraid of Hawkeye hearing him.

"Hughes is there, isn't he?" the teen asked finally.

"What gives you that idea?" Roy muttered.

"You really only get this pissed off when he's involved."

"You try putting up with him. He's figured out fax machines now and he's duplicating the photos using a series of strategically placed full stops that form simplistic black and white images of his daughter."

"Wow." Edward rocked back on his chair. "Too bad for you."

"They keep ending up in my paperwork."

"So, I guess you'll be wanting me up in the East?"

"That would be preferable. When's the earliest you can make it?"

"About three o'clock, if I hurry."

"Good. I'll be seeing you shortly. 'Bye, have a safe trip." The last few words were hastily jumbled into the phone.

"Right, thanks. I'll see you soon…unfortunately."

Edward nodded at the officer, who hung up the phone and walked a little way away to set it on a bench.

"So?" Alphonse asked. "What's the story?"

Edward opened his mouth to explain the situation before letting out a dismayed cry rather like Havoc did when he discovered a shortage in his tobacco supply and tumbled backwards in his teetering perch.

"Bro?!"

Still tied to the chair, Edward's head lolled back onto the floor and he let out a groan. "I forgot to get him to reactivate my account."

* * *

_CHAKA-chaka-CHAKA-chaka…_

Edward twirled an empty bowl around the table with his finger. The noodles it had contained had long since vanished into the boy's mouth and a conversation devoid of any real topic had become the plaything of the two Elrics.

They had managed to escape the clutches of the officers in Harlingdon. To Roy's credit, he'd had Edward's account reactivated without any prompting. The two had repaired all the damage they'd caused, and had lost a considerable deal of money to the 'Winkles needs a pedi' donation pool.

"I mean, consider its legs," the elder continued the pointless banter as he jabbed down on the rim of the bowl harshly, causing it to flip upside-down. "If it had its legs all tensed up, it might just bounce a couple of times and walk it off."

"It would end up breaking its legs if that were the case," Alphonse reasoned. "Now, if there was a trampoline… Then a rabbit would definitely survive a three storey fall."

"If you say so, Al," replied Edward, in a somewhat subdued manner.

"Something wrong, brother? You seem especially quiet."

Edward's nostrils flared as he sighed and looked out the window. "Nothing's wrong, really. It's just…I haven't seen much of the colonel since we travelled out east. It's weird, knowing him this way. Before, he wasn't anything but a greedy perverted jerkass with nothing on his mind apart from promotions, but…now that I know there are other things going on his head? It's weird. He's weird. The whole world is weird."

His forehead connected with the glass pane with an accompanying dull _thunk_.

"I don't understand!"

Alphonse giggled. "Didn't I tell you he couldn't be all bad?"

"There's still enough bad in him to rub me the wrong way, mind you," grumbled Edward. "And to think he's an alright guy at the same time is damn confusing!"

A few moments passed where Edward grew drowsy watching the hills roll by outside the train in mesmerising rolls of undulating green and gold.

He stood. "I'm going to the bathroom, alright? Be back in a second."

"Right."

Edward made his way to the front of the carriage and passed through a door into the next carriage up. He was briefly buffeted by the wind as he stepped between them, seeing the tracks rushing by under his feet.

After he'd finished, he made his way back to the carriage where Alphonse was waiting. Just as he was about to open the door, a phone in the control room began to ring.

Seeing the place unmanned, Edward took it upon his curious self to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Ah, Fullmetal. Perfect. We need to talk."

Edward stared on before sighing through his nostrils. "…How."

"Hm?"

"How. How did you get this number. The train I'm on. The carriage I'm in. How."

"Irrelevant. There's something more important at hand. If you thought the circumstances were bad beforehand, you're going to _love_ this," the colonel explained, sarcasm oozing from the phone. "Turns out it wasn't a general sent here at all. It's _much_ worse. So instead of you having a _little_ assignment, we've now got pulled into another—"

"Are you psychic?"

"…_What?_"

"Psychic. You've got to be. How else can you just know _everything_?"

A sigh crackled out of the line. "Fullmetal, I'm not psychic and I don't know everything." A pause. "Although I do know a fair bit more than you. On with what I was saying, it wasn't a general at all. So now my team is running around _completely_ unprepared with the _Fuhrer_ roaming the halls of Eastern Headquarters!"

"The Fuhrer?! My mission's from _him?!_"

"Apparently so. And it's not _your_ mission."

"What do you mean? Are you getting me to do your dirty work again? 'Cause if you are—"

Another voice came through from Roy's end of the line, one unfamiliar to Edward.

"Colonel Mustang, sir, I thought I'd asked you to wait inside my office? My rule is to forget work whilst here, remember?"

Roy's next words were muffled. Edward assumed he'd clumsily shoved a hand over the mouthpiece. "I-I have an important call to make!"

"You work too hard, Colonel."

Edward rolled his eyes. Anyone who really knew the colonel knew he avoided any work he didn't have to do. _A slacker to the bone_, the boy thought.

"Who is that?" he asked eventually.

"A psychiatrist," Roy hissed. "And General Yu's still here! Help me, Fullmetal!"

"Huh?" the boy gripped the phone tighter, growing worried now.

"Quickly! Get your ass to base and—"

"Colonel Mustang!" The doctor's voice sounded closer.

"What?" Edward almost shouted. "Mustang?!"

"We're on as father and son again! Fuhrer's orders! I'll explain later!"

"_Colonel!_" The doctor was upon his target.

"Ed—"

_Booooooooop…_

"Eh…?" Edward blinked in mute shock at the phone, one eyebrow twitching. "_Eh?_"

He allowed himself a moment to be baffled.

"_Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!_"

The young alchemist's cry echoed through the empty carriage, up to the drivers, down to his brother and deep into the very earth below the train speeding towards East City.

* * *

**So how'd I do, boss? Leave a review and tell me what you think!**

**Now, before you leave, I just wanna say there's a reason for Roy and Ed's somewhat cold attitudes towards each other this chapter, which will be shown soon. And the briefly mentioned 'General Yu' is a character mentioned in the story 'Dailies' by Strix 4 (epic story, go read it if you haven't already) who fills a minor role for the first couple of chapters.**

**That's all from me, guys! I hope you'll like 'Red and Blue' as much as you have my other stories, or that you'll like my stuff if this is the first you've seen of me. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Spinach Quiche

**Hey-yo bros! This is 'Red and Blue', chapter two, comin' through, from ZakuroU! (I'm such a good rapper.)**

**Alright so, remember when I said I was gonna show where the Parental!Fluff went? Well, here's the explanation!**

**And I thought you might like to know - my most recent poll results (as to being a homunculus or an alchemist) were 28/3 to alchemist. I have a new poll up about deviantART now.**

**SO FMA belongs to the awesomesaucenessness that is Hiromu Arakawa, General Yu to Strix 4 (unless I'm mistaken) and the word awesomesaucenessness to me. Possibly.**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

It was a nightmare.

It had to be.

Roy sighed, deeply and from the bottom of his heart. "Yeah…" he breathed. "A nightmare."

"'Fraid not, Boss," Havoc called out from his desk, having caught the barely audible remark. "You're wide awake. And five thousand cens of your next pay-check belongs to yours truly!"

With a laugh, he turned to the rest of the office. "Keep up the lousy wagers you lot! I'm going to treat Charlisse to a date so nice, she's sure to stay with me forever!"

"Charlisse?" Roy's frustrations soared once more as he scanned the stacks of paperwork he faced. Annoyed, he bit out, "The girl from the pub down Channers? She likes classical plays, and isn't very fond of karaoke. So if you're planning on taking her out again, you might want to reconsider the type of place you take her. She isn't keen on your taste in music."

Havoc made a noise like a dog running into a brick wall and Breda gave him a snickering pat on the back.

It was then that the door flew open again. Roy jumped forward and smashed his arms down on top of his papers in order to stop them blowing away in the sudden gust. Working in the outer office was often a pain.

He wasn't sure which of the duo that came barging in had kicked open the door, since the odds were so high on either of them. And the two of them tended to be the only ones who never failed to throw open the doors with each entry.

"Found 'im!" Hughes hollered from one end of the office. "He just got here, straight from Hakuro's jurisdiction!"

"Yeah, how's it going Colonel Headcase?" Edward called, sounding not so much angry as vaguely bored. "You called?"

"I did," replied Roy with a sigh, sitting back in his seat. He set down his pen. "Fuhrer's given us another job."

"So you told me," said Edward, glancing backwards as his brother appeared in the doorway. "So, for what ridiculous reason am I stuck playing charades as your son again?"

"Troop morale, apparently," Roy told him. "The Fuhrer's organised a meet-up for military father-son teams from each region of Amestris and a couple of our allied nations to 'bond' in a series of competitions spanning a couple of weeks or so. The aim is for a little friendly rivalry to help strengthen the ties between not only the Amestrian jurisdictions, but our allies as well. As this is the case, teams are likely to be sent from here, the North, the West, the South, Grand Central, a team from Orato, a team from Kambei and a team from Avonum, a far western nation we recently formed an alliance with. Thankfully for us, no Aerugo. So no _friendly interactions_ with our _good friend_ Prince Claudio."

"Orato?" Edward echoed. "Does that mean Tyrell will be there?" His heart lightened a little at the thought of seeing the teen again. Granted, Tyrell was a bit of an eccentric and had been part of an Aerugonian scheme to invade Amestris, but the Oratoan prince was still Edward friend.

"Not sure," answered Roy. "It seems unlikely, as that would mean the king of Orato would have to come along too. It'll probably just be a couple of men from their army."

"Okay." A little disappointed, Edward spun around to face his own brother who'd just walked up to the desk. Roy pounced on his documents again to keep them from spraying with the breeze of the boy's cloak. "Right. So, that's the background painted, but…why are we involved? We aren't even related."

Meanwhile, Hughes dug a hand into the breast pocket of his uniform and pulled out a stack of photos. He began to arrange them, apparently deciding which to show Edward immediately and which could wait.

"That's the thing. The Eastern branch of the State doesn't _have_ a father and son in the military," explained Roy, breathing out a sigh and sitting back from his sheets "So the Fuhrer found the next closest thing. Us."

"I'm a little insulted."

"The feeling is mutual. But orders are orders."

"I guess," Edward said with a heavy sigh. "So when do we leave? And who are all the other teams?"

"I'm awaiting further information as to dates and such, and these guys are compiling information on the other participants." Roy gestured at the other people in the room.

Falman raised a hand. "The son on the team from the south is just three years older than you, Major Elric. Maybe you'll get along?"

"Eighteen, huh?" Edward pondered, a hand on his chin. "Seems like a stretch…and he's pretty young for a soldier, huh?"

"Like you can talk, chief," Breda put in pointedly.

"Fair 'nough."

"Hey, Colonel." Hughes stepped forward, and Roy snatched a stack of papers and clutched it to his chest as the man made himself comfortable on the colonel's desk. "I was called down to Gramman's office just a while ago and I've got a little more info. Shall I take over?"

"Go ahead," Roy said with a grunt as he set his papers down somewhere safer.

"Great!" Hughes grinned widely. Edward flinched as he whipped out a fist. "First, take a look at this picture of my wife! It's her birthday soon, and let me tell ya - she ages well! Not that I'm saying she's old or anything. She's the perfect age! Haha, forget it! There is no age, she's just perfect all the time!"

"Hughes." Roy picked up his pen and continued working. "The assignment."

"Oh. Right." Hughes nodded. "The event is planned to be staged here, in East City at first, before moving all around Amestris. The Fuhrer is here to welcome the other teams and scope out the Eastern troops, see if they're up to the job of watching over a bunch of important people. From what I've heard so far, he likes the standards of you lot. You two are going to be taken off normal duties. I'll be filling in for Roy here whilst this plays out."

"I'm not undercover this time, then?" Edward asked.

"No. Most of the other teams should know you two aren't really related anyway. Look at this – Elysia's gotten so big! You really ought to pay us a visit sometime soon!"

"Hughes." Roy slid another stack out of the way of his friend's flailing arms, grimacing. If someone messed this paperwork up, there would be hell to pay.

"Right, right." Hughes flailed his arm again, Roy barely managing to evade it. "You'll be situated in one of the nearby military hostels for the duration of the exercise, free to mingle with the others. Edward, your brother will have to remain here. He can stay in the dorms on base, where we can all keep him company in your absence."

Alphonse laughed nervously and gave the impression he was flushing, despite his metal face. "Well, thanks."

"Anytime, Alphonse," came Fuery's timid voice. "We love to have you around base."

"Yup! A right ray of sunshine! Just like my little Elysia! I mean, look at this picture—"

"_Hughes_."

"Yup, okay. We'll be looking after Alphonse for a bit."

Edward cast a glance at Lieutenant Hawkeye, who sat quietly at her desk a little way away. She glanced up from her work and met Edward's gaze. In that instant, the promise they had made on Roy and Edward's last joint assignment passed between them once again.

_"Take care of him," _

_"Only if you'll do the same."_

"And don't you_ 'Hughes'_ me," the lieutenant colonel said, giving a strangely accurate impression of his friend. "That's all I know so far. Therefore…"

He grabbed Edward and Alphonse by their wrists and pulled them right up to the desk he was sitting on, where both they and Roy could see his pictures. The colonel barely snatched his papers out of the way in time.

"So, which do you think? Does Elysia look cuter in this dress or the yellow one? And which do you think compliments Gracia's better? Hm? Hm?"

"Well, uh… I wouldn't know anything about that…" Edward replied sheepishly. Grumpily, he added, "According to various sources, my sense of style isn't to everyone's liking."

"Your sense of style is a mythical creature only visible to those as clueless and lacking in finesse as yourself, Fullmetal," Roy put in.

To Hughes, Alphonse murmured, "I think the yellow one works best with Mrs Gracia's dress."

Edward whirled around, one arm out as if to push a stack of paperwork off the desk he stood before.

Roy had his glove on and aimed for Edward faster than the young alchemist could lock on to any foolish sod unfortunate enough to utter the word 'short' in his presence.

"If you so much as lay a finger on this paperwork, barbequed shrimp will be the next thing on the Mess Hall's menu," he growled.

"Touchy, touchy," remarked Edward, baring his teeth and burning with resentment. He reached out one finger and placed it heavily atop a stack of papers. "_Touch_."

Roy snapped his own fingers, triggering a tiny zap of flame not strong enough to do any real damage, but strong enough to burn through the fabric of Edward's glove and expose his auto-mail hand.

"I said paws off, Fullmetal!" the man snarled.

"Getting a little trigger happy, are we, Colonel Pyro?" Edward shot back, equally as irked.

"Okay, that's quite enough of that," Alphonse said, figuratively sweating a little.

"I second that," Hawkeye called from her desk. She cast a subtle glance at her sidearm currently acting as a paperweight, serving to remind the two bickering State Alchemists that no matter how far they were towards the ends of their leashes, she wouldn't hesitate to tug them back into line.

"Very well," Roy replied, sounding a little disgruntled. "Fullmetal, you're dismissed. Go do as you please, so long as you stay out of trouble. Your pranks are usually severely unappreciated, and now even more so as the Fuhrer is within our midst."

"Right. Whatever. I'll get going."

He whirled around and stalked off, raising one hand and beckoning. "C'mon, Al. Let's find us a place to stay."

"Right. Coming!" Alphonse jogged off a few steps before turning, giving a little bow and saying, "Mr Hughes, Colonel. Thanks."

"See ya later, Al!" Hughes responded with a whistle as he leant back, attempting to shove a picture in Roy's face.

"Mm," added the Flame Alchemist, not looking up from his work as he used one hand to push Hughes' photo away.

After the Elrics left and Hughes had accepted that Roy was in even less of a mood for viewing photos than normal, the room had fallen moderately silent.

Everyone was hard at work with whatever they were doing, be it dutifully looking through military personnel records or hanging about aimlessly and tossing the occasional photograph at another person.

Roy was gradually lulled into a trance-like state of reading papers and signing his name over and over. These papers didn't require much thought, but that might be what made them so boring.

All was peaceful until…

_Slam!_

"Enter the Fuhrer!"

Roy jumped out of his skin.

Well, it seemed like his skin inside his mind, but it was really just his chair. In doing so, he smacked his legs into his desk, knocking it forward a little and sending the meticulously stacked sheets of paper flying across the floor.

Roy's turn came to give a dismayed yelp as he stared at the mess with a mix of horror and hollow grief.

He glanced up towards the door, to where Hughes was sweating and twiddling the door handle.

"Oopsie?" he said nervously and with a tense shrug. "I got bored…"

"Oh, you've done it now, man," Breda said, his expression matching that of a schoolchild who was watching one of his classmates get caught on the receiving end of the teacher's wrath.

Fuery sighed, offering a weak smile. "I'd try to get as much of a head start as I could, if I were you."

Hughes pointed at him and nodded. "Good idea."

With those two words still hovering in the air, he turned and sprinted from the room at a speed rarely achieved by man.

Roy stared at his papers for a moment longer, making a noise like a deflating balloon with a pinched nozzle. The trauma of the incoming headache of re-reading, sorting, rearranging, stacking and filing this copious amount of paperwork was imminent in his wide eyes and dropped jaw.

"And we have fireworks in five…" Havoc began a countdown.

"Four." Breda began to grin.

"Three?" Falman continued hesitantly.

"Two," Fuery put in.

Hawkeye gave a heavy sigh. "One."

"LIEUTENANT COLONEL HUGHES, YOU GET YOUR SORRY ASS RIGHT BACK IN THIS OFFICE OR SO HELP ME, I WILL BURN IT RIGHT OFF AND FORCE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT!"

* * *

"Kaaaaaah…"

Edward gave a gargantuan sigh, spinning on one toe and tossing his suitcase onto the bed.

"Alright there, brother?" Alphonse asked, his eyes tailing the older Elric's meandering path over to the bed he flopped heavily down upon.

"Just typical that I'd be caught on a joint mission with the colonel now…"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I got in an argument with him before that last trip down to South," Edward explained. "We're not exactly on good terms now."

"I should have known," said Alphonse with a light-hearted sigh. "After a screaming match like that in the phone booth…and you were in a bad mood for the whole mission."

"Damn colonel keeps trying to boss me around! You'd think he'd know by now that I'm not another one of his loyal cronies…"

_"And remember, Fullmetal," Roy said. His voice crackled in and out through the faulty line. "Hakuro isn't the type of guy who'll take the kind of back-talk you give me. So I'd hold my tongue if I were you."_

_"Psssh, whatever," Edward replied with a flick of his wrist. He was standing in a phone booth on a main road in a small southern town, with Alphonse and their trunk waiting outside. "You're just jealous 'cause I always have the better retort."_

_"I'm being serious here, Fullmetal!" Roy insisted. "Hakuro is not a man to mess with! He might give you a bit of leeway as thanks for the whole train incident, but I wouldn't risk it. You need to be on your best behaviour."_

_"Geez, stop talking to me like I'm freaking three years old! I can handle myself!"_

_"No, you're terrible. And I am not treating you as a child here, I'm treating you as an Amestrian soldier under my direct command. _Do not_ let this assignment reflect badly on me, and _do not_ get yourself on the general's bad side. He's a nice enough guy, but managing the Aerugonain border is tough work, and I wouldn't blame him if he gave you a court martial for the stunts you pull."_

_"…" Edward rubbed his eye, watching a man walk past with some wooden planks over one shoulder. He'd been up late doing research in the ancient library of this town (one of the oldest in the country, in fact) and was tired to the bone. Hence, he was in no mood for the colonel's words._

_"Fullmetal, are you listening?"_

_"Yeah, sure." A yawn punctuated these words. "Yada yada Amestris, military military blah, _do not_ this, _do not_ that, court martial, Aerugo, military, blah."_

_"Elric! I am _trying_ to help you here!"_

_"No, you're trying to keep your obedient suck-up military attack dog image good in the mind of some other general. And I really don't care."_

_"Well you should! I control your missions, so you're the one who should be worried about keeping up his image! Because I can have your leash pulled right in close to the military whenever I damn well feel like it, so no more roaming for you! And the only thing you'll get from then on out is mountains of godforsaken _paperwork_ as far as the eye can see! Maybe then you'll start to appreciate what I've done for you thus far!" From what Edward could derive, Roy was swamped with work. But for the teen in this exhausted state, even just the threat of having the free reign the military gave him over his travels – the travels that permitted himself and Alphonse to search for the Philosopher's Stone – taken away set him on edge._

_"What you've done for us thus far is the same thing any moral human would do for another without prompting! I know it might be a stretch for you to understand, Mustang, but some people have this thing inside them where they actually help people without an ulterior motive! Do you get that? Or did you lose—"_

_He'd been about to say, 'Or did you lose whatever sense of compassion you ever had back in Ishbal?', but the boy had cut himself off, knowing better than to bring Roy's sore point into the argument._

_After seeing how raw that nerve still was for the colonel back on their last mission, he was reluctant to bring it into even the most heated arguments they shared._

_"Or…did you lose it in that black hole you call a heart?!" Edward finished, quickly changing his wording._

_"You know what, go ahead," Roy said, his voice quiet but thunderous. "Go flying into Southern Headquarters with your guns blazing and find out what happens. See if I care. Throwing the phone away."_

_There was a thud from the other end that Edward assumed was the phone hitting the floor._

_After a couple of moments, Hawkeye's voice sounded. "Sorry about that, Edward. General Yu – the one you described as 'possibly the one guy who's both more of a bastard than Mustang and hates him more than I do' – is about base again, so the colonel is more than a little worked up. He may need to take a small break, or might just end up finding the coffee machine out of order due to irreversible damage caused by the bullet of a well-aimed Model 1911."_

_"He's giving me _his papers_," came Roy's muffled voice. "_His_ damn papers, mixed in with mine."_

_"Hn. Whatever." Edward closed one eye and leant to the side. "We done here?"_

_"I believe so. Travel safe, both you and your brother."_

_"Right, thanks. Tell the colonel I said 'Stay stupid-ass, you giant buttkiss'."_

_Hawkeye sighed. "I'll tell him you said 'bye'."_

_"Tell him I said 'Maybe next time you'll grow some damned brains'," came Roy's muffled angry retort. "'Or a few centimetres taller than my skirting boards'."_

_"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SHORT, YOU SMUG ZIP-FOR-BRAINS ASS-HAT?!"_

_"Goodbye, Edward."_

_The line disconnected._

"And that's why we're not frolicking and getting along like the happy, joyful pair of best friends we normally are," Edward finished with a flourish towards the bottom of the top bunk.

"Oh, gee whiz," Alphonse said. "You two had better sort this out soon, or your assignment is going to be _hell_."

You knew it was bad if even Al was using words like 'hell'.

* * *

"What do you mean it's moved up?" Edward complained, throwing his arms out in front of him.

"What do you think I mean?" Roy asked, shifting the stack of papers in his arms. "The Fuhrer isn't a patient man, Fullmetal, he moved the competition forward."

It was the colonel's lunch break now, but he still had work to do. He had called Edward in a while ago, but the boy had purposefully wasted time making his way over. Alphonse and Hawkeye followed the pair a metre or so behind, chatting.

"How has work been treating you, Lieutenant?"

"We have been _very_ busy lately, but we're managing. Well…" She paused and cast a weary glance forward. "_Most_ of us are managing."

"Shut up, shut up!" Roy barked, waving a hand at Edward. "I've had just about enough of you!"

"Then you're going to _love_ the next couple of weeks!"

Hawkeye and Alphonse skidded to a halt as Roy whirled around viciously and their partners shot into a fiery face off.

"What's wrong, Colonel?" Edward growled, his golden eyes burning into Roy's. "Don't think you can put up with a brat like me?"

"The contrary, Elric," Roy replied, his teeth flashing. "I was wondering how long that metal arm of yours would withstand two thousand degree flames."

"Big talk from a small man! Like your gloves could ever reach that temperature!"

"The pot calling the kettle black, Fullmetal! What are you, thirty centimetres?!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SHORT, YA PYROMANIC JERKASS?! Y'KNOW, SPEAKIN' OF POTS AND KETTLES, YA AIN'T MUCH BETTER YOURSELF!" Edward was close to snorting steam out his nose as he jabbed a finger at Roy's arms. "And ya can't even keep up with your own damn paperwork!"

Roy glowered down at Edward for a moment longer. "General Yu's paperwork," he said firmly and Edward flinched a little. He knew how big a grudge the general had against the colonel, always giving him the worst assignments and poking him where it hurt. Roy could do nothing about it if he valued his rank or his wellbeing.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go enjoy my spinach quiche—" The colonel shrugged the papers in his arm. "—Scratch that, I'm going to speed eat the damn quiche and get back to the work I shouldn't be doing in the first place."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode off.

"Hawkeye."

"Yes, sir." The lieutenant followed him quickly.

"Love me some spinach quiche."

"Yipe!" The two Elrics jumped in unison and turned.

"L-Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!" Alphonse exclaimed. "You snuck up on us!"

Hughes had his arms folded, standing behind the two and watching Roy and Hawkeye walking toward the Mess Hall.

"Guilty as charged," the man said, throwing his hands behind his head. "Guilty as charged…"

"Somethin' wrong, Colonel?" Edward asked.

"Ah, nothin'." Hughes gave a lopsided grin. "Here, hold onto this for me?"

He sprinted down the hall, a photo of Elysia reaching for the camera floating towards the pair behind him. The Fullmetal Alchemist plucked it from the air and smiled at Elysia's grinning face.

Edward and Alphonse watched as Hughes jumped Roy from behind, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

From this distance, it was impossible to make out what they were saying, but it seemed like Roy was shouting and Hughes was laughing.

Although he was yelling, Roy didn't seem especially angry. Well, not as angry as he had when he'd been arguing with Edward, that was for sure.

"Geez, how is it that Hughes can annoy the life outta Mustang and then they get along so well?" Edward said disbelievingly. "I just don't get it!"

"You're the same, brother," Alphonse murmured. "But your pride gets in the way of it. You and the colonel were working together so well in Kambei…"

"An alliance born of necessity," responded Edward, though doubt made his claim flimsy. "Let's go. We don't have much time to prep."

His cloak and braid flourished as he turned and stalked off the other way, and Alphonse cast one last glance back at the trio disappearing into the Mess.

"I hope I get to see you two like that again," he whispered.

* * *

**Al ships it. XD**

**Okay, so, there's a little bit of stuff to get through before we get to the fun part, but...we get to meet all the other teams next chapter! Yay!**

**I'm quite proud of the character development on a couple of the teams, so I'm looking forward to introducing them! And I did a lot of studying up on (more like testing the credibility of) a specific kind of alchemy, so you can probably expect something interesting!**

**I get the feeling there was something else I meant to say, though I can't remember what...**

**Well, thanks everyone for reviewing, favouriting and following! Your support means a lot!**

**ZAKURO AWAAAAAAY! *to French class!***


	3. Friends and Foes

**Hmmmmmmm… How will I start this chapter? I had a tonne of stuff to tell you, but I forgot it all… *cries***

**Well, off the top of my head, here are some OCs for you! I hope they're okay. (Good luck, guys!)**

**Also *falls into D. Gray-Man and lands on face* happened. That and Durarara. Yup.**

**And wow you guys! You gave me so many reviews and everything! I'm so happy! Thank you so much! *cries some more***

**My dog looks so silly right now… That was random. I really don't remember what I was going to say… OH! YEAH!**

**I'm not sure how the hierarchy of East HQ works (some sources say Roy is boss and some otherwise) but let's say for this fic Grumman is the top dog in the East because that's easy enough and I believe he was in FMAB.**

**Let's go! Whoo~!**

* * *

Over the next couple of days, military duos from all across Amestris started appearing in Eastern Headquarters.

The first to arrive on the front steps of the base was the team from Central, a fifty-something-year-old general and his twenty-something son. If they had any scrap of modesty or common courtesy in their bodies, they neglected to show it. Neither the stocky, grey-haired father nor the ghostly pale son paid any mind to the salutes Grumman, Roy and Edward put forth, skipping right by them and up to the Fuhrer.

"Oh, how lovely to see you, my Fuhrer!" the father, General Reece Rothford, spouted as he was put at ease and shook the Fuhrer's hand.

"Yes, truly marvellous," added the son, Aidan. "Though might I ask why we are holding the event here in the East?"

"That was cold," Edward muttered to Roy from his spot beside the man. "We got totally snubbed."

"I'd noticed," replied the colonel as he followed Grumman up to the huddle of soldiers that was the Rothfords, the Fuhrer and his flank.

"Aha, you see, Lieutenant," the Fuhrer was saying. "This approaching duo is the team from the East."

The Central team glanced back, eyeing Grumman, Roy and Edward.

"General Grumman and this fellow?" Rothford senior inquired, tossing a thumb at Roy.

The colonel blinked, and Grumman let out a chortling laugh. "Wrong duo!" he exclaimed. "Though I can see why you'd think two handsome devils such as us would be related!"

The Fuhrer laughed too, and left the Rothfords looking confused as Edward stood pokerfaced in the background.

_They assume Grumman was related to Mustang before me_, he thought to himself. _My hair might have been dyed black, but how in the world did we pull of Kambei?_

"Haha…" Roy sweated a little and hesitantly gave a faint, unconvincing laugh.

The Fuhrer chuckled as he nodded in Edward's direction. "Colonel Mustang here will be taking part with this young man as his son."

"Huh?" the younger Rothford narrowed his eyes at Edward. "They're related? And this shortie's a soldier?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING 'SHORTIE'—Mmph!"

Edward's ranting was efficiently cut short as Roy reached around behind the teen's head, clamped a gloved hand over his mouth and pulled him to his side.

"This is Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist," the colonel explained as Edward gnawed on his fingers. "I am Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, General and Second Lieutenant Rothford."

"I've heard of this Fullmetal kid," the older Rothford said. "And you, Mustang. Word in Central is that you two remotely prevented an Aerugonian invasion from the Kambei peace summit by disguising yourself as father and son?"

"That's true," Roy said, removing his hand from Edward's head and slipping off his drooled-on glove. "We are filling the Eastern section's position as there are no blood-relations meeting the requirement in this area."

"The reason we're beginning the meet in the East is to give these two a bit of a leg up," the Fuhrer explained. "They're up against teams who've been together their whole lives, so a home ground advantage seemed a fair way to even the playing field, if only for the first while."

"A fine idea, my Fuhrer," Reece Rothford stated, giving the pair a scathing look up and down. The expressions of both him and his son indicated their negative reaction to finding that the Eastern team was a powerhouse State Alchemist duo who had no relation whatsoever. It seemed like enough of an advantage to them already.

Edward scowled at Aidan, who raised one fine, platinum blond eyebrow.

"Now, men," the Fuhrer said, and the two teams plus Grumman turned to face him. "I want a nice, fair competition between not only you, but all the teams."

It was apparent he'd caught the ice in the atmosphere between the two teams.

"Understand?"

"Yes, sir!" the five replied, snapping into salutes.

"Then shake on it, you four, and we'll all head inside for some tea," the man finished, clapping his hands and smiling behind his thick moustache. He, his escorts and General Grumman headed for the base's front doors, leaving the participants behind.

Roy and Edward turned to face the Rothfords, and they each held out their hands.

Roy's counterpart, General Rothford, gave a cold smile and tightened his grip on Roy's hand as he shook. "Good luck, Colonel," he said, though the wish seemed to lack any real conviction.

"Same to you," Roy replied, setting his jaw as his fingers were crushed together by an old man who was much stronger than he looked. Today was a bad day for his fingers.

Meanwhile, it seemed Aidan had tried the same thing, but with a much different outcome.

Edward smirked and let his gaze wander sideways as the lieutenant gaped, squeezing at solid metal.

* * *

The next teams arrived at the same time, the two from the West and the North. These two teams were as different as they came.

The northerners were slight and wiry, both with dark hair, dark eyes, dark uniforms, dark glasses and startlingly pale skin. They introduced themselves as Warrant Officer Siger and Staff Sergeant Stephen Meinhardt, older and younger respectively. Neither of them really seemed to care about the situation at hand, simply walking up and offering neat salutes.

"Straight from the northern fortress of Briggs," the Fuhrer announced. "The home of many of the finest trained men in all of Amestris."

Where the Meinhardts were slim, subdued and ferociously obedient, the Westerners were tall, muscular and booming.

The Fergusons stood a metre or so above Roy, possibly seven over Edward, and had thick brown hair. Their uniforms were bursting with muscles, and they had dark tanned skin. The father – Captain Harold Ferguson – sported a bushy beard and a moustache that nearly rivalled Major Armstrong's. Gunnery Sergeant Ravis Ferguson was a touch shorter, and the imposing facial hair was replaced with thick stubble.

"Welcome to East City," said Grumman, staring up at the Fergusons. "I do hope you all enjoy your time here, and wish you luck for the events to follow. Corporal Oxspring here will show you to your accommodations."

Once Roy's hand had been shaken once and crushed once more, and Edward's shaken then possibly a little dented, the teams passed them and headed into the base behind an awestruck corporal. Edward, Roy, Grumman, the Fuhrer and the two men accompanying him had been about to follow when another car pulled up at the bottom of the steps.

The team that stepped out of this one seemed at least half-normal to Roy, but apparently not to Edward.

"H-hey!" The boy stared down the steps at the apparent son from this team, his expression shocked. "That's the soldier from Southern HQ who kept following me and Al around!"

Roy frowned and cocked his head.

The son element of this team seemed younger than most of the others, with honey blond hair and grey-blue eyes. He had his uniform jacket undone, with a grey singlet exposed.

He buttoned it up with an elbow in the ribs from his father, a tall man with greying brown hair and the same eyes as his son.

The two approached with cases in hand, giving their salutes to the men they met on the steps.

"Colonel Theodore Schuyler," the father said, dropping his salute in favour of a handshake with Grumman. "And this is my son, Ambrosios Schuyler."

"_Amory_," the young man corrected as he too shook Grumman's hand. "_Major_ Amory Schuyler."

He cast his blue eyes to the Eastern team.

"You must be the famed 'youngest State Alchemist', the Fullmetal Edward Elric," he said. Looking to Roy, he added, "Although I didn't know you had a father in the State."

"He ain't my pops," Edward told Amory as he shook. He watched the newcomer suspiciously. "We're the closest thing in the East to a father-son team."

"I see."

Schuyler shook Roy's hand, giving him a smile. This smile was almost the same as the one General Rothford had graced Roy with, if not icier.

"Colonel Mustang," he said with false lightness. "It's been an age."

"Indeed it has," Roy replied, his brow furrowed as he held Schuyler's gaze. "I was afraid you'd forgotten me."

"Who could forget the man who solved the cases of human marketing and rebellion all along the South-East sector border so quickly?" Schuyler said. He said it in a light tone, but Edward could tell the southern colonel was angry Roy had taken and solved so many of his cases and issues right from under his nose.

The handshakes broke apart, and Edward noticed a glint of silver at Amory's side. His eyes widened at the sight to two metal objects at the young soldier's left hip.

One was the chain of a silver pocket watch.

Another was the dull gleam of an auto-mail hand.

"A State Alchemist…?" Edward muttered aloud unintentionally.

He jumped as Amory shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out his watch.

"That's right," he said with a lofty smirk. "Major Amory Schuyler, Spark Alchemist."

"It wouldn't be fair to have just one team with an alchemist on it now, would it?" the Fuhrer asked, whilst Edward gawked at the youngest State Alchemist he'd ever met after himself. If Falman's information was correct – which it almost always was – Amory was eighteen.

"H…how long have you studied alchemy?" Edward finally asked when his curiosity got the better of him.

"Since I was ten," Amory replied. "I might have gotten certified with the State sooner than a few months ago had I not lost this to rebels attacking South City."

He drew back his sleeve to show Edward his left arm, of which half his forearm was metal prosthetics.

"And what's your specialty?" Edward continued, eyeing the strange circle carved into the palm of the auto-mail.

_Alchemic symbols for copper, steel and water… And Zeus several times. The fire symbol inside water… And the words around the edge translate to 'harness the sky fire for one's one'. I've never seen this layout in a transmutation circle before._

"Well, I got pretty good at basic geological shaping and mineral transformation alchemy when I turned fourteen, but I moved on from there," Amory said. "Believe it or not, I've used my master's studies to further perfect the style known as 'Lightning Alchemy'."

"No way!" Edward exclaimed. Once alchemy was involved, nothing else really mattered to him. "That's said to be one of the hardest to learn and control forms of alchemy there are! Not even the man who was said to have invented it – Herschel Bauer – could perfect it!"

"My mentor," Amory said, raising an eyebrow as the alchemy-freak touched a hand to his chin and began to mutter to himself. "Before he lost his life to rebels."

"It's nearly impossible to figure it out without someone teaching you," the boy mumbled. "And it's ridiculously hard to control, a lot like Flame Alchemy." He glanced at Roy.

"Then you must be the Flame Alchemist," said Amory with a curt nod at Roy. "I've heard a lot about you."

Roy nodded back, eyeing Amory with well-hidden suspicion. "That would be me. It's good to meet you, Major."

"You too." He smiled and fixed the Eastern team with a hard look.

"Let's head inside then," the Fuhrer said, turning on his heel.

As Roy and Edward shared a glance, Amory and his father passed between them.

"We're going to obliterate you," the young man murmured, and his father didn't silence him.

The two Eastern State Alchemists followed more slowly, Edward grinding his teeth. He was already beginning to foster intense feelings of dislike towards Amory and his father.

"Well," the teen said. "This is going well. I wonder if there's single team coming that won't hate us?"

Roy sighed and rubbed his forehead wearily. "Can't say you're wrong there, Ed."

The boy blinked at the use of his first name, and put it down to fatigue.

"The only teams left now are the foreigners," the colonel stated. "Maybe we'll have a better chance with them."

* * *

There was a night between the arrival of the Amestrian teams and the foreign teams, a night which Edward spent discussing Lightning Alchemy with Alphonse until he inevitably passed out on the bunk bed.

Roy's approach was quite the same, only he had Hawkeye standing over his shoulder until her late shift ended at ten thirty and she told him he was allowed to go home. He'd judged the amount of paperwork he still had left, decided it was doable, and promptly collapsed on his office sofa at two o'clock.

And he would have slept 'til two in the afternoon, had Hawkeye not entered the inner office with the Elrics just behind her at eight sharp.

She glanced over her shoulder at the boys as they entered, only to find Edward had dashed off in search of a black marker.

"Should we leave him there?" she asked. "He did finish all his paperwork."

Alphonse shrugged. "I suppose it couldn't hurt, so long as we wake him in time for meeting with the other teams."

Edward tiptoed back into the room and around the pair, prodding Roy in the cheek with the end of the marker he'd found. He was about to pull the lid off when Roy reached up and caught his hand.

"Do it and I'll toss you into the coffee table," the man mumbled.

Edward, realising the man wasn't joking by the way he adjusted his grip to indicate some kind of judo move, wisely shook Roy off and stepped back.

Scowling, he tucked the marker into his pocket as Roy sat up and rubbed his face. The man turned to look at his desk, which was completely clear of papers.

"So it wasn't a dream," he said, blinking away sleep. "It's finally all done."

"Yes," Hawkeye walked past him and up to the desk, where she placed a steaming mug of coffee that effectively enticed Roy up to it. "Good job, sir."

Roy grabbed the mug and inhaled deeply. "Crappy Mess coffee never smelled so good."

Edward eyed Roy's cup. "If it's bad, then why do you drink it?"

"A kid like you wouldn't understand," Roy replied.

"Tch!" Edward glared. "I understand fine! I drink coffee too, y'know! It's just stupid that you'd drink something that tastes bad!"

Roy shrugged. "Whatever you say, shrimp."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING AN INVERTEBRATE SO SMALL HE'D DROWN IN HIS OWN MUG?!"

Hawkeye sighed, opening the blinds on the windows. "You two had best start getting along soon."

"Whatever," grumbled Edward.

Roy shrugged and sipped his coffee.

"Knock-knock! I'm comin' in!"

Hughes smacked the door open with little effort and kicked it closed behind himself. "Mornin' all!" he greeted, tossing a photograph into the air.

Roy jumped as something smacked into his desk and saw it was the photograph, pinned down by a push knife stuck in the top right corner.

"A gift for you to say congratulations on finishing your papers," he said. "Here's some more."

He dumped a stack on Roy's desk, the response to which was a raised eyebrow. "These papers are addressed to 'Lieutenant Colonel Hughes'."

"Darn." Hughes sighed and slapped a hand on the sheets. "Was hoping you wouldn't notice."

"Good shot, sir," Hawkeye complimented as Roy tugged the knife out of his desk.

The man scowled. "Naw, I was aiming for the other corner. Now the point of perforation is uncomfortably close to Elysia's pigtail."

Edward sat down on the couch Roy had been sleeping on and his brother stood behind him.

Hawkeye moved on to the next window, winding it open and looking around. "There's a car parking out front," she remarked. "You two should probably get down there."

Roy sighed and bit his lip, reluctantly setting his coffee aside and standing.

Edward followed him out of the room and down the corridor. There was a _thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk_ as Alphonse chased after them, catching up halfway to the front doors after having decided he wanted to meet the foreigners as well.

The first to get out of the car was a man with red hair tied in an intricate fashion, dressed in a green uniform Edward didn't recognise. He had a tattoo on one cheek, though the teen couldn't make out what it was. He reached inside the car and pulled out two cases.

Next out was another green-clad soldier with black hair. Edward's jaw dropped as they climbed the steps. Alphonse gasped and Roy blinked in surprise.

What was most astounding about the son was not the bright blue eyes, the dual braids joined at the back of his head or the pierced ears, but his age.

The kid couldn't be more than twelve.

"Greetings," the father said. "Ulfric Pravda of Avonum, and my son, Felix."

"Greetings!" came the Fuhrer's voice from behind, startling the three Amestrians. He'd appeared quite out of no-where with Grumman and a couple of other men beside him. "It's an honour to have your country join us in this event!"

"It's an honour to be here," Ulfric replied. He looked to his son. "Right, Felix?"

"Yup," the boy answered with a smile. He turned to Edward. "I hope we can get along, big bro…?"

"Edward Elric," the alchemist replied, sticking out a hand and blinking in astonishment. "I-it's nice to meet you."

The boy shook and jumped in surprise. "Your hand is…"

"Uh…" Edward withdrew, taking off his glove. He held up his auto-mail arm and smiled sheepishly. "Heheh."

"Wow! A metal arm! That's neat!" Felix gaped at Edward's arm and the teen grinned.

"It is pretty cool, huh?"

Alphonse broke in. "H-how old are you, Felix?"

"I'm eleven," Felix replied. "What about you, Mr Armour?"

"I'm fourteen," Alphonse said. "And my name isn't 'Mr Armour', it's Alphonse Elric."

"So you're brothers? Then how old are you, Edward?"

"I'm fifteen."

"So you're the big brother?!"

"Yes! I am!"

Ulfric smiled. Upon closer inspection, his tattoo looked to be a word in some language Roy didn't recognise. "Good to see they're getting along," he said. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr…?"

"Colonel Roy Mustang," Roy answered, shaking Ulfric's hand. "Ed here isn't related to me, but we're filling in for the East's lack of teams."

He looked at the three younger people and frowned a little. "Felix seems very young for a soldier," he remarked.

"In Avonum, a minimum two year enlistment is mandatory from the age of ten," the Fuhrer explained.

"We're not a peaceful country," Ulfric said with a shrug and an awkward smile. "It's not ideal, but it's the law."

Once introductions were through, Ulfric and Felix went ahead into the base.

"Ten years old, huh…?" Roy muttered to himself. "That's almost cruel…taking their childhood like that."

A thought struck him. _Says the man who scouted an eleven-year-old as a human weapon._

Edward slipped his glove back on and laughed, knocking Alphonse's chest plate. "Mr Armour! Classy!"

Alphonse punched his brother in the shoulder lightly as he continued to snicker.

"Something wrong, Colonel?" Bradley asked as the younger man stared intently at the Elrics.

"N-no, sir," Roy replied with a shake of his head. Quickly changing his train of thought, he continued, "Just wondering what types of events we'll actually be participating in."

"Well, we're going at it whole-heartedly this time, Mustang," the Fuhrer said. "You'll be doing quite possibly everything. From what you'd expect – things like target practise and sparring – to team sports like football and tennis and even karaoke if you feel like it! Marathons to quizzes to rock climbing to swimming! Artistic skill! Survival tactics! Dancing, even! You name it, Colonel, it's been planned!"

Roy blinked, wilting a little at hearing 'swimming' amongst that list. He and Edward had no chance in that event.

The Fuhrer's moustache twitched upwards as he smiled. "Don't get overwhelmed, Mustang!"

Next to arrive was the Kambeian team with another familiar face in the mix.

"Oh Master Edward! Master Roy! It's so great to see you again, I missed you so much, please take me on a tour of your country!"

Roy and Edward were briefly crushed to death in the embrace of Inuya, a young Kambeian messenger and tour guide who apparently served the armed forces as well as ran errands for the emperor, was a part-time street-performer, and more. Roy had, upon hearing Inuya list his various professions and responsibilities, decided that he was a very busy young man. He had been Roy and Edward's escort when they had stayed in Kambei, showing them around (and providing a very in-depth description of Kambeian heritage sites and history) and helping them get what they needed.

"Inuya…" Roy choked out as Edward's auto-mail shoulder dug into his ribs. "Breathing space…would be nice…"

He broke away almost immediately, tears pricking the corners of his dark eyes. "I'm so sorry, Masters! Please forgive me for my breach in etiquette, I'm just so happy to see you again!"

"It's good to see you too…" Edward returned, rubbing his crushed left arm and smiling weakly. If Inuya were any more like a puppy, he'd have floppy ears and a tail.

"Master Edward," Inuya said, recovering his composure at top speed and raising his eyebrows. "Did your hair colour change?"

"Eeeeehh…" Edward sweated a little. "Yeah… I never really had black hair to begin with. And he ain't my dad."

Roy nodded as another two people walked up the steps.

"You mean you aren't really father and son?! Really?! But you seem so much like it!" Inuya whirled around. "Usa, did you know they're not related?!"

Inuya's younger sister, a shy palace maid named Usagi, nodded and smiled. "Yes. They tried to explain it to you, remember? But you were too excited to listen, like normal."

"AH! I'm sorry!"

"It's alright, Inuya!"

The three kept talking as Roy turned to the third and final Kambeian, who he assumed was Inuya and Usagi's father.

"Greetings," the man said, extending an arm. He had dark brown eyes and long black hair tied in a ponytail, as well as complex traditional Kambeian uniform. "I am General Umaro Kamagawa of Kambei, pleased to make your acquaintance. You may have seen my face whilst you informed our troops of your strategy to protect the city."

"Colonel Roy Mustang," Roy replied, shaking the man's hand and nodding. Part of him thought he should be surprised that the Kamagawa siblings' father was a general, although he was really just too tired and out of surprise to care. "It was an honour to work with you, sir."

"The honour is mine. I hope we can enjoy competing against each other in these events." Umaro bowed his head. "Best of luck to you, Colonel."

"And to you, General."

The three Kambeians were lead into base by Corporal Oxspring, who copped an earful of questions from Inuya ("What is the base made of? When was it built? Does it serve any other purposes? Does it have heritage value? Wow, you aren't a very good escort, sir!").

"C… Colonel!" Edward's exclamation caught the Amestrians before they had time to walk off. The boy was staring down the steps, a look of disbelief on his face for the third time that day. "Look!"

He followed the boy's gaze down to the bottom of the steps, where an older man was being assisted from the car. He had deeply tanned skin and grey hair that provided contrast to each other that made Roy sure he was from a southern country. He wore a purple sash over cream canvas robes, fastened with a gold emblem at his chest.

It wasn't him that had caught Edward's attention, however.

"Don't push yourself, dad," came a familiar voice from the young man helping him. "You've only just recovered."

"Don't worry kiddo, your old man can handle himself!"

Edward's grin was plastered widely across his face as the two walked up the steps.

When waiting patiently failed, he charged down to meet them halfway.

Roy smiled as Edward gave a whooping laugh and exclaimed, "Tyrell!"

The Oratoan prince glanced up, and a smile stretched across his face. "Ed! I wasn't expecting to see you here!"

"Me neither!" Edward turned to Tyrell's father and dipped his head respectfully. "You must be Tyrell's old man, sir."

The king broke into a smile himself at Edward's informal formality. "That would be me. And you're Edward Elric? I must thank you for keeping my son out of trouble. And you inadvertently saved my life as well as my country, and for that, I thank you."

"Aw, it was nothing," Edward said sheepishly. "I only helped was all. I just did the grunt work, really – it's _him_ you should be talking to." He pointed a thumb at Roy.

To Tyrell, he added, "As much as I hate to say it."

The prince laughed, and as his father walked on ahead, Edward threw an arm around his shoulder and tousled his white hair roughly. "It's so great to see you again, man!"

"Thanks and all, but _get off_!" Tyrell jabbed Edward in the side with two fingers and the alchemist fell away. "As you can see, kept my hair white. Ma finally accepted it, and I looked so underground with my Kambeian clothes on. Sweet."

Edward's grin continued as they headed up too. "And I'm back to being blond."

Alphonse joined the trio, and they began catching up with the latest news from their respective countries.

Meanwhile, Roy and the king shook hands, thanks were exchanged and repayments were declined.

"I cannot express my thankfulness to you and young Edward here," the king – Dominico Torfell – said to Roy. "I hope we can get along during this event. You seem like a nice enough pair, I'm most pleased to make your acquaintance."

"And I yours, sir," Roy replied with a dip of his head and a hint of a smile. "And again, I was only doing my job."

The Fuhrer raised his arms. "Then with all the teams gathered, we can get underway! Let the events begin!"

With that said, he and his flank started up the stairs.

"Going against that prince would have been tough, though," Dominico said to Roy more solemnly. "I know. And I thank you for going through whatever you did."

The colonel closed his eyes briefly, pulse racing at the memory.

During the Kambei summit, Roy and Edward had fought against Prince Claudio of the southern country of Aerugo, a man with a desire to take over Kambei, Orato and Amestris as well as a deadly skill in using his silver tongue to pinpoint someone's weakness and push them to a state of terror.

He'd used this skill to take the past horror of Ishbal and use it to force Roy into panic attacks that had left him vulnerable. Despite this, he and Edward had teamed up with Tyrell to eventually overcome the prince and save Kambei, as well as Orato, Amestris and Dominico's life.

When Roy opened his eyes again, he met the king's violet gaze and said, "It wasn't anything Edward and I couldn't handle."

And the Fullmetal Alchemist continued to laugh with his friend and his brother, just happy to be in their company.

* * *

**Yes**

**So**

**Tyrell's back**

***throws confetti***

**And I hope you like the other OCs! Or dislike them if they're meant to be disliked… Or anything, I don't even know. Each man to his own opinions… Or woman… I suppose… Yes, I hope the OCs all characterised enough, and Amory doesn't come off as an annoying Mary-Sue. Or should that be like, Martin-Steve? Or Steve Martin… I like that guy. I think.**

**I am so braindead right now. XD**

**Hope you liked it! I'm gonna go drink tea and watch Captain America!**

**ZAKURO AWAY! *late birthday shoutout to Spidey19 – You're awesome man!***


	4. Short Black

**Two apologies – I'm sorry I didn't update sooner and I'm sorry for the short chapter. See, I've been really busy of late and a lot of stuff got in the way.**

**So anyway, here's the update! Because it was Parental!Mustard week, there are some parental bits in here. I hope you enjoy!**

**I had something else I wanted to tell you, but now I've forgotten it…**

* * *

"Some friend you are."

"What's that?"

Roy didn't look up from his paperwork at Hughes, who was leaning against a bookshelf halfway across the inner office and sipping a cup of coffee.

Hawkeye stood behind the colonel's desk, scribbling something on a clipboard and glancing up on occasion.

"I said, 'some friend you are'," Roy repeated as he scanned the document before himself apathetically. He reached out and methodically folded the top corners in toward the middle of the page.

"What makes you say that?" Hughes asked, sagging as if he were wounded by Roy's words.

"Well, for starters, you stole my coffee." Roy looked at the bespectacled officer by his bookshelf as he expertly pressed the page into two vertical halves. "I got less than six hours of sleep last night and you still don't hesitate to take my coffee. And then you come in here with a huge stack of papers and not a scrap of sympathy, dump them on my desk and stand there watching. I mean really, don't you have work to be doing, Mr Big Important Central Guy?"

"That's _Lieutenant Colonel_ Big Important Central Guy," Hughes corrected loftily as he plucked from the air the paper plane that Roy had lobbed his way. "And no, I've done everything I need to do until you get this whole competition thing going and I take your post."

"So you're just going to stand there and watch me suffer?"

"Yup." Hughes slurped the coffee luxuriously.

"You're a jerk, you know that?"

"It's not ideal for me either, Colonel!" Hughes cut in, setting his – _Roy's_ – cup on the shelf beside himself. "Do you know how long I'll be away from home? Weeks! That's precious weeks of the journey of my sweet little Elysia blooming into the beautiful young maiden I know she'll be that won't be documented in the immortal perfection of a photograph! And weeks my darling wife Gracia will spend taking care of her all on her own! It makes me want to cry!"

"All the more reason to refrain from marriage," Roy said with a sigh as he read another letter de-briefing him on the Fuhrer's review of the Eastern troops. "Continuous bouts of unnecessary emotion."

"And what if some tough guy thinks he can try to pick her up whilst I'm gone?!" Hughes fretted, fingers twitching. "I mean, she mightn't be at that age anymore but she's still the most beautiful woman in all of Central! I wouldn't put it past all those men to try something funny with her! Though she would never cheat on me! …Would she?"

Hughes glanced desperately at Roy, glasses flashing. The man shrugged and tossed his gaze in Hawkeye's direction, who also shrugged and blinked at the possibly deranged husband.

"No!" Hughes folded his arms astutely. "What am I saying?! Of course not! She's the most loyal, most caring, most wonderful girl there is! I don't know why I even thought it!"

Roy sighed as Hughes stalked off across the room towards the door. "But I can't stand the thought of some sleaze giving her trouble! I need to phone her right away. I'll be back, just give me five…ten…half an hour, forty-five minutes at most."

As he exited, Roy said, "I don't know how you lot put up with him standing in whilst I was away."

"The Lieutenant Colonel can be quite a good worker when it comes down to it," Hawkeye replied.

"He didn't do any of the paperwork assigned to this post last time," Roy reminded her. "I had to do it all when I came back."

"Let me rephrase that, then," Hawkeye responded. "He can be a good worker when he feels like it."

"That I'll take."

A moment later, the door opened again.

It swung back and hit the stopper with a _thud_, but not nearly with the slamming vigour Edward usually graced the unfortunate passageway with. The young man entered, golden eyes searching the room, blond hair braided and dressed in his usual attire, minus the red cloak.

"Hey, Colonel Excitement-Repellent, how goes it?"

"Hm. Well… The paperwork is agonisingly dull, the preparations are an excruciating hassle and your face is a dark shadow of obnoxious hell once more sucking up the light that was beginning to struggle through after the rambling void that is Hughes made himself scarce."

Edward sipped at a takeaway coffee cup. "Hm. As gloomily poetic as ever, Mustang."

Roy gave a tight smirk. "I see you've come to mock my lack of caffeine as well, Fullmetal. So what's in that cup then? _Short black_, I'd guess. Although, that might be too mature of a taste for you."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A TINY LITTLE BEAN SO SMALL HE'S NOT EVEN WORTH GRINDING?!" Edward scowled after his face morphed from dragon-like to something more human in appearance. "And anyway, I am here for a reason. Contrary to what you might think, I can go a good, long while without experiencing any crushing need to see your face again."

Roy stifled a yawn as he slid a couple of pages off the top of his next pile. "Alright. So tell me, what's this big important reason?"

"You seem tired," Edward commented out of no-where.

"I am tired," Roy responded. "Tired of all the beating around the bush that's going on in this base."

"Then I guess this'll help." Edward set his paper cup down on the corner of Roy's desk, thankfully away from any papers.

The colonel bit his tongue as he eyed the white lid of the hot drink.

"I ran into the Fuhrer a while ago," the boy began as he took his watch out of his pocket. He stuck a finger through the loop of metal on the end and began whirling through the air in wild circles. "Or rather, he ran into me and Al. Or snuck up on us. Not sure. Either way, he gave us some news on the event. He also said it's beginning within the next couple of days."

Roy looked up, his pen halting its swishing path across the end of another ammunitions approval sheet. "Go on."

"He said that for the whole time we're doing this competition thing, we're supposed to stay the nights in military accommodations. It's alright for me and Al – he's waiting in one for me right now – but you've gotta pack your stuff and get into a dorm. And then we'll be moving from dorm to dorm as we move from each section of Amestris to the next."

Roy's heart sank, and going by the grin on Edward's face, his expression had gone with it. "Great. Just great. I even have my own place not ten minutes away and they still want me here… At least I'm authorised to get myself a good room."

"That's another thing," Edward said as his gaze followed the whirling watch. "The saying goes, 'What's mine is yours', right?"

He cast Roy a sidelong glance as the colonel made quick work of figuring that out, indicated by the way he thumped his face into his paperwork. A muffled '_really?_' floated up.

"All the teams are to share accommodation between the pairs," Edward finished, letting go of the chain and watching his proof of State employment soar through the air. As he snatched it back into a white-gloved hand, he said grumpily, "I'm over the moon about it, as you can see."

Hawkeye offered her input, "You never know, it could help you two remember how to set aside your differences and disagreements and actually win some events."

"Tch. I hate sleeping near that guy," Edward growled. "He grinds his teeth in his sleep!"

"That's not true!" Roy fired back. "And even if it was, you're no better – you drool! And you sleep with your stomach out. Sprawled all over the place."

"You leave your crap everywhere," Edward countered, folding his arms. "And then you complain about _me_ being messy."

"Because you filled the entire room so full of books, you couldn't even see the opposite wall. And then fell asleep with your arms hanging off the couch, snoring and mumbling with a book on your face!"

Hawkeye sighed and lowered her clipboard a little bit as the two bickered. Although she'd witnessed the fireworks that had started the tension between the two, she refused to believe that the closeness she'd observed in Kambei was gone for good.

"And your night terrors," sighed Roy. "Never have I heard a man scream that high-pitched. Though you are really more of a boy. A boy, still scared of the 'monster' under his bed. And apparently me…scaredy cat."

Edward went red, recalling the time he'd awoken from a nightmare and mistaken Roy for a monster in his state of disorientation.

"That wasn't funny," he said, looking down as he snatched his coffee away.

Roy seemed to sense he'd said the wrong thing as Edward walked stiffly towards the door, his cheeks still burning pink and his golden eyes fixed on the floor.

He opened and closed the door softly.

And Roy regretted his words.

"Sir." Hawkeye's voice was sharp and reprimanding.

Roy's lips twitched and he closed his eyes. With a sigh, he tilted his pen forward. "You're right. That was out of line."

"Much so. Especially when he's trying to be nice to you – to the best of his ability – due to the whole Yu situation."

"Right, I'll go apologise to the kid when I'm done with this." He indicated the stacks of paperwork he'd half-completed with a flick of his pen. _And I didn't even realise…_

A second later, he jumped as he heard a _click_ behind his head.

"Go now."

Roy stepped away from his desk and headed across the office hurriedly, deducing which path Edward would likely have taken and beginning to track him down on his wit alone.

Hawkeye smiled a little to herself. The colonel knew the sound of a gun all too well to actually believe the _click_ of her clipboard was a cocked handgun.

"Maybe they haven't grown as far apart as I thought," she said softly.

* * *

"The Wind Spirit grows annoyed at your refusal to bend to its will."

Edward was sulking in the private shadows of a lonely tree standing within the small courtyard of Eastern Headquarters, fiddling with blades of grass as he struggled to split them in half with one hand made of smooth metal. Grass-stained white gloves lay on the lawn by his side.

He looked up as Roy's form cast a shadow across his vain attempts at blade-splitting.

The colonel blew out a sigh and closed his eyes before offering a shrug and an upwards twitch of his lips that Edward could only assume was a tired smirk.

"What can I say?" he asked wearily. "I'm stressed out and annoyed at you, you're worn out and mad at me and we end up stuck together."

Edward gave a quiet 'hmph'.

Roy settled cross-legged on the grass in front of his young subordinate, watching his grass-tearing crusade grow ever less patient.

"I know I can be pretty snappish at times, Ed, and I know 'sorry' doesn't really cover everything I've done, but I do want you to know that I honestly… I care…about your feelings, so…"

Roy interlocked his fingers and propped his head up on his elbows. Saying things like this was a difficult task for someone as logical and professional as him. "I want you to know that I don't mean to lash out at you, but you'll have to put up with the things I say when I'm worked up. I'd…never want to hurt you…alright?"

"Then don't bring my sleep patterns into public conversations."

Roy shifted a little. "It's only Hawkeye."

"And if I just happened to mention in front of her the times that _you_ were the one who muttered and writhed in your sleep with sweat dripping off you? The times where the high and mighty Flame colonel was nothing but a cornered rabbit? When you were so vulnerable it actually freaked me out?"

Roy looked down.

"So don't act like I'm the scared and weak one when you get just as bad yourself!"

Roy flinched away a little, somewhat uncharacteristically. The way he stared at nothing from the corners of his eyes informed Edward that something was definitely amiss with his superior.

Though he was too annoyed at him to ask what it might be.

"Didn't I say this would happen?" Roy murmured. "That one day I'd take my teasing too far?"

Edward scowled. "You did. Back after you'd had the living daylights beat out of you."

The man straightened and folded his arms. "Well, if this is indeed that day, I just want you to know that I'm sorry about it, alright? We say things we don't mean when we're under pressure."

"Then what about those weeks ago when you said you'd look after me?" mumbled Edward, hugging his knees. "When you said you'd try to treat me like a father would to a son? Didn't you mean those either?"

Roy smiled slightly, attempting to clear up the sadness on his face. "I… I did mean it when I said that. Honestly. I'll try to be better at it… Though this is new for both of us, so you'll need to give me a little time, alright?"

Edward nodded, still looking at his knees. It wasn't like they really had the whole dynamic of their relationship down anyway – the pair fought viciously one minute and were the closest of family the next.

"Let's end this argument here, shall we?" Roy asked. "We're going to need to be at our best for these events, which means plenty of rest for you. So head back to your dorm."

"Fine." Edward put his hands behind his head. "And you too. If that Yu guy gives you any more crap, call me and I'll come sort him out."

Roy smirked. "I'd appreciate that. Now, I've got some work to do. I shall see you at the dorms as soon as I'm done."

He stood and walked a few steps away as Edward grabbed his gloves and stuffed them into his pocket messily.

"Oh, and Fullme… Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"Just so you know, about that whole Hakuro quarrel…" Roy was facing away, so it was impossible for Edward to read his expression. He shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"Well, I was just worried, okay?" the man offered lamely. "You'd slipped under the radar for a week beforehand without saying anything – after getting involved in a gang battle, I might add – and you sounded beat when I finally got a hold of you. Hakuro's a hard man, I was worried you might end up getting pushed down into place when you were already low."

Edward blinked and Roy's hands found themselves into his pockets as the man scuffed the ground shamefully.

"Don't scare me like that, you hear?" the colonel grumbled. "I don't care how important your research is, at least sign in so I know you're still alive."

With that said, he moved off stiffly.

"You'll be the death of me, Elric!" he called over his shoulder.

"The sooner, the better!" Edward cried back, maintaining the mutual rudeness that kept their bond healthy. Although…

Edward sighed, bringing his palm to his chin and turning his head to the side ever-so-slightly. He watched Roy's retreating back disappear back inside the building.

_He's got something heavy on his mind_, Edward thought distantly._ I wonder what…_

He sat back against the tree, folding his arms behind his head and crossing one leg over the other. The grass was soft and not wet with dew. He'd found a smooth, comfortable dip in the tree's trunk that curved nicely with his back and gave him something good to lean against.

_Is it just the travel?_ Edward wondered. _I know he doesn't much like changing beds… Maybe he's just dreading having to pack up and move into a dorm._

Edward smirked a little bit at the image this put into his head of Roy trying to shove a bed into a trunk.

Maybe it was just his tiredness and all. He was pretty worked up about the whole event, and with General Yu wandering around and the heated argument the two State Alchemists had shared, Edward wouldn't be surprised if stress was the perpetrator to Roy's off behaviour.

If so, he'd have to make sure the colonel didn't have any solo bar trips planned.

Or maybe there was something else…? Something Edward was missing entirely? He pondered this for a while, but dismissed it. It was probably just Roy's tense mood influencing his behaviour.

Whatever the case, Edward would at least try to tone down the button-pushing with his superior a little.

Try.

A little.

The boy sighed and looked towards the sky. Patches of blue reached him through the springtime leaves of the tree.

"What in the world is this relationship, anyway?"

* * *

**Yes, I'm genuinely sorry it was so short… The next one is longer and more interesting, I promise! I'm just sort of setting up the plot here, I guess.**

**And I'm really into D. Gray-Man now! (Thanks a lot, Toph Hitsugaya.) Komui is the bae! XD Speaking of, I drew an FMAxDGM crossover and I'm posting it on deviantART soon. If you wanna see it, fly over there… I'm pretty proud of it. XD**

**Before I go, I have a question for you guys; how old would you guess I am? Just out of curiosity. I've never said it because I don't like having my age about, but I'm wondering what kind of impression I give off age-wise. You don't have to answer, I'm just daft…**

**Thank you again for all your support! You guys help me out a lot in my quest to write awesome stories! ZAKURO AWAY!**


	5. The Old Photograph

**Hola brolas! It's update time! Remember that thing I forgot what it was that I wanted to tell you (such good Engrish) before? It was the fact that I posted 'You're Not My Real Dad!' a year ago then! Happy birthday to it! *blows party horn***

**Anyway, let's get on with it~**

* * *

Roy had managed to mow through nearly all the papers Hughes had so unsympathetically smacked onto his desk that day. After that, Hawkeye had managed to get him an hour off work to go pack his belongings and get into some military accommodation.

Roy had no idea what Edward was doing.

And now, on the way to the place he never really called home (rather, 'the building he slept in'), he reflected on how odd it seemed that he was behind the wheel after all the time he'd spend sailing around in the passenger seat with Hawkeye acting chauffer.

He was a little out of practise, but it was nothing to worry about. As he swerved speedily around another corner, dangerously close to a street lamp, he briefly wondered if his driver's license was still valid.

He assumed it was.

Once inside his apartment, he closed the door behind himself and frowned. "Well. When did this happen?"

Roy glanced around disdainfully, eyeing the mess he'd made of his living space. He tried to decide whether anything was missing from the room – it could have been ransacked by a monkey chimera on caffeine for what it looked like – but failed to distinguish any obvious disappearances. And with little to his name besides a couch, a radio, a dinner table stacked with take-out packaging, a wardrobe of clothes, what seemed to be half a kitchen, a much-beloved bed and seven boxes of knick-knacks, there wasn't much to be stolen from Roy.

He was sure five out of those seven boxes were books too.

Having just under an hour to spare, Roy gave himself a small amount of time to clear up his place. He emptied the kitchen of any food that would go off, threw out all the rubbish strewn through the place and cleared up what seemed like every single dress shirt ever made off his bedroom floor.

"Much better," he muttered to himself, wiping his brow and admiring his neat living space. "Now, just one task remains."

He moved to his wardrobe and stretched up as high as he could, just managing to brush a tough leather surface with his fingers. With a grunt, he jumped and fought to get the object free of the space atop his wardrobe.

Perhaps he should have thought it through a little better, since he now had an open trunk biting his head and shoulders, having spewed its contents all over the unsuspecting colonel.

Sneezing out dust as he removed his trunk, Roy inspected the junk. It looked to be a series of old photobooks and stray pictures, used notebooks and other such memoirs.

"Now I remember throwing all this in here," Roy said as he picked up one of the albums. The faded label on the front read 'Brother and family 1888-1890?'. If he recalled correctly, this had belonged to his Auntie Chris.

He gave the pages a hesitant flick through. How long had it been since he'd looked at these? Probably not since before the Civil War…

Each page had a couple of photographs attached; a man with brown hair and grey eyes, a beautiful woman with dark hair and a tiny little boy with tufty black hair and a supremely curious gaze.

Roy smiled, setting the book on his lap and flicking through it. He had received a few books like this from his Aunt. He'd argued that it would be better if she kept them back in Central, but the stubborn woman insisted that the then newly-enlisted young man would get more use out of them than she.

"Considering I had a good many years of knowing your mother and father," she'd finished. "And you had… What, seven?"

Roy found a photograph of himself at about six, sitting on his mother's lap as she read to him. The look on his face was one of awe and excitement, as if he were totally into the story. His mind wandered as he flicked through the old pictures. Did Edward and Alphonse have any photos like this? He was curious to see them. He'd seen Edward as an eleven-year-old, but he really didn't seem to look much different at fifteen. He smirked as he imagined Edward as a three year old, still with the grumpy face and foul mouth.

A flash of his previous thoughts reached him at this.

_Did I really pull the kid into this too early?_ he thought with a frown as he closed the album. _I really didn't think he'd actually enlist so quickly… But who am I kidding? This is Edward. If only I'd… I don't know. Known what he was like before then? Offered them more help? No, there was really nothing for me to do… I just hope the kid doesn't have to go through something like Ishbal._

He looked down at the last family photo in the album, one where he was about seven. It couldn't have been long after that when…

_"This is your Auntie Chris, Roy. You'll be staying with her from now on…"_

Well, it was true these photos hadn't seen the light of day since before the Eastern Rebellion. Roy remembered distinctly putting them away now, having been too ashamed to look at them.

With a gentle touch, he ran a finger along the face of his mother and over his father's shoulders, right down to the tip of his scruffy head.

"I'm sorry…" Roy said softly. "I'm sorry that the son you loved so much committed such evil. I really am. But I promise I'll try to my greatest extent to make up for what I did."

He smiled with a heavy heart and removed the photograph from its slit. "Right, mother? Father?"

He slipped the picture away after a moment, closed the book and stacked it neatly with its few companions before tucking them away above the wardrobe.

"And the next step towards that destiny," he said firmly, grabbing his trunk and rising to his feet. "Let's set this competition ablaze."

And seriously hope he wasn't late, 'cause Hawkeye would have his head.

* * *

"Ed…ard… Edward… Edward!"

"Huh?" The boy awoke with a start. "Whowazzah?"

Blinking his gaze into focus, Edward managed to un-blur the visage of Colonel Roy Mustang and fuzzily wonder what the hell was going on and who the weirdo looming at him from above actually was.

Then it clicked.

"Th… The hell're you doin' 'ere?!" he shouted, disorientated. "What the heck?!"

Roy's black eyebrows inched upwards in bemusement and he leant back as Edward sat bolt upright and his eyes darted about. "And where's Al?!"

"We're sharing a dorm, remember?" Roy prompted. "Your brother's a room down."

Edward blinked as his bleary mind struggled to connect the dots. "Uh?"

"It's time to get up, kid. Events start today," Roy reminded him, straightening the collar of his uniform as he looked down at the boy in bed.

Edward gave a horrendous groaning noise akin to that which the spawn of a moose and creaking floorboards might make as he finally pieced it all together. "Do I have to?" he grumbled groggily. "I's up with Al 'til eleven…"

It was late afternoon when Roy had shown up at the doorstep of the Elrics' dorm yesterday, a suitcase in tow and keys to a nearby single dorm for Alphonse jangling in one hand. The man had moved into the bed opposite Edward whilst Alphonse had moved into the single next door. He'd be staying there for the duration of the exercise.

"Yes, you have to get up," Roy replied firmly. "I see something in there has finally caught up to your age…a teenager's extreme reluctance to awaken."

Edward pressed a hand to his face and rubbed clumsily. "You try gettin' up in th'mornin' when weird dream's 've been keeping ya up since two. 'Slike, three hours o' sleep!"

Roy's expression didn't change. "I can imagine. Now, up and at 'em!"

"Nnnnngh…" Edward rolled out of bed and onto the floor. "Five more minutes…"

"Geez," Roy remarked. "You really are beat, aren't you? Well, better get out the hose…"

Edward made pitiful noises of distress at the mention of a hose and flailed his arms about a little. "I'm coming, I'm coming… Just hold your damned horses, Colonel Pushy."

"As soon as you hurry up," Roy retorted. "I let you sleep in, so consider yourself lucky!"

"Whatever…"

Roy's voice dropped a little. "And try not to make so many noises in your sleep, y'hear? Your whimpering kept me up half the night."

Edward rolled onto his back and scowled up at Roy. "It's not like I can help it."

Roy's shoulders twitched in a faint shrug. "I know, but next time… Wake me if it gets too bad, alright?"

Edward rose to his feet, giving a mirthless grin. "If it was bad, you'd be awake. You and I both know that. Right, have you seen my cloak?"

"Opening ceremony requires uniform, Fullmetal."

"Oh, too bad! I've only got a dress uniform…"

"Lucky you've got such a generous commanding officer. I had regulation blues made up especially for you."

"Damn you."

Roy smirked and tossed the thick blue material Edward's way. "Call me if you need any help with that."

"Um, I highly doubt I'll require assistance to put on a dumb uniform."

"But you can't do up your own braces?"

"Shut up!"

The banter continued for a while as Roy went to the small kitchen to cook himself some toast. Eventually, Edward had pulled the uniform on over his black singlet and boxers. He tied his hair in a stubborn braid and left his jacket unfastened.

Roy rolled his eyes at the tangled chords and flaps and made his way over. He grabbed Edward's jacket and untwisted the decoration adorning his right shoulder, as well as smacking the fold closed, fixing the collar and straightening out the tails.

"There we go," he said, brushing off his hands as he admired his work. "That's how a uniform should be worn."

"It itches," Edward said bluntly. "And the trousers are too loose."

"Quit complaining. You'll only have to wear it every once in a while," Roy informed him, pretending to forget the fact that he'd had the exact same complaints when he'd first donned a military uniform.

"But I hate it!"

Roy smirked at Edward as he squirmed around the room, tugging at the uniform in some kind of convulsing ritual.

"Let's just get to it, hey?"

* * *

Roy and Edward stood side by side in front of the other fourteen competitors, facing the podium where the Fuhrer, General Grumman and a couple of other Central officials stood. As the home team, they were positioned at the front so everyone else could stare at them.

Behind them were all the other teams; three pairs of Amestrian blue, another in Northern dress, the Oratoans in their purple and cream, the Kambeians in complex uniforms of blue and white and the Avonese in simple olive green.

All the teams and the platform were situated in the training grounds, surrounded by a hastily erected wooden fence. Surrounding the fence was a good percentage of all the soldiers in East HQ. Roy would vouch on his team being a part of that percentage.

Edward yawned and rubbed an eye sleepily as one of the Central men read an introductory speech. From where he stood, he was too shor – _no_, the podium was too tall for him to see over. This meant he couldn't see the speaker, but it sounded like he had a moustache. Yeah… Edward would bet his coat it was a man with a moustache. Throw in his boots and it was a bristly one.

It was only when the man stepped down from the podium and sat some way back (Edward would have retained his coat and boots – this guy basically had a small animal stuck to his upper lip) that he realised he had not been listening to a single word.

"Psst, hey," he whispered to Roy. "What was he saying?"

Roy made a noise that was the verbal equivalent of an eye-roll. "All you need to know is that the Fuhrer's giving us the first exercise."

Indeed, Bradley himself had risen to the podium and was smiling down at the teams with practised ease.

"Alright then, men," he said with a twinkle in his eye that was somehow both jovial and threatening. "The first exercise is something of an ice-breaker. These good fellows around us are here for a reason too. The first thing to do is to go around and have each and every one of you show the rest what exactly your strongest weapon is. I'm counting on you all for something impressive…which I know our Eastern hosts here will certainly supply."

Edward scowled. The Fuhrer had basically painted a huge target onto the backs of himself and Roy. From the look on the colonel's face, he knew it too.

"Great," the man said. "Now they're going to think we're getting favoured even more… I guess we'll have to really impress then."

Edward nodded and grinned, still facing forward. "No problem here. Ready for round two, Mustang?"

"Hell," Roy replied with an interested smirk, remembering the last time he and Edward had demonstrated their alchemy before a crowd. "Why not? What are the stakes?"

"If mine looks cooler, I'll be able to ask a favour of you any time I want and you can't turn it down," Edward proposed. "And vice versa. I can't think of anything else off the top of my head."

Roy thought this over. Eventually, he shrugged. "I can't think of anything better. You're on."

The Fuhrer's voice echoed down once more. "Right then. Decide amongst yourselves who will demonstrate first. Don't take too long! We'll be waiting."

The competitors gathered together into a cluster, trying to decide which team to send out first. Eventually they sorted out an order, with Roy and Edward in last. It seemed a strategic move, as if the other teams were hoping to show up the East before they'd even begun. The crowds would probably be over the excitement by the time the two State Alchemists had their turn in the spotlight, making them seem a lot less impressive.

But what they hadn't been counting on was the loyalty of the Eastern troops. It didn't matter that a good deal of the men thought Roy was a complete and utter jerk worth less than the mud on their boots, they would cheer for him out for the simple fact that he was representing their district. And who didn't love Edward Elric, the boy wonder and Hero of the People?

Both of these facts coupled meant the crowds were liable to pay attention to the very end and cheer the loudest for the men who worked with them.

Orato was to be the first team to demonstrate and Kambei the second, so the two teams had decided to join forces for their show.

Tyrell and Inuya strode out first, with loud applause and shouts from an eager audience. They were excited to see what strange feats the foreigners might offer.

As the two sons took up their places opposite each other in the centre of the training grounds, their fathers appeared from behind a storage building.

Both Umaro and Dominico rode on the backs of muscular military patrol horses, fit, strong young steeds raring to go.

The pair of them came thundering in from a distance, the horse's hooves thumping the ground in pounding vigour. Both men urged their mounts to canter faster, though it was Umaro who proved the faster rider as he soared over the fence into the grounds ahead of Dominico.

The pair of them circled the arena a couple of times and pulled out any stunts they knew, standing on the saddle and hanging off the side as well as jumps and weaves and rearing horses. This was all much to the audience's enjoyment.

Though both were quite spectacular, it was ultimately Umaro who was more impressive atop a horse. Whether or not this was due to Dominico's recent illness was unknown, though Roy thought he was going well for his condition. All the while, Tyrell and Inuya waited patiently in the middle of the arena until their fathers cantered out.

As they left, the two bent over in a respectful bow and waited until the riders had cleared the fence once more.

Only then did Inuya reach for the blade at his side. With a metallic slash, he drew his sword to hold it double-handed at the side of his head and prepared to fight.

From their vantage point under a shelter just next to the Fuhrer's stage, Roy and Edward both recognised the style of curve-edged sword as a traditional Kambeian weapon.

"A katana," Roy mumbled, remembering the term from when an old military weapons expert who'd trained his class in artillery back in his academy days had used it. They'd never used swords much, but Roy recalled favouring the two-handed grip of a katana to the exposed feeling of the Amestrian blades.

Inuya fell into a deep fighter's stance, shifting his sword in front of himself and waiting for Tyrell to draw arms.

But (with an excited murmur from the crowd) Tyrell did not make any move for a weapon and simply slid into the loose stance Edward recognised from having fought the boy previously.

"So he's going for the pressure points again," Roy remarked.

Edward nodded. "This oughtta be good."

With a shout, Inuya surged forward and aimed straight for Tyrell's stomach with a sharp stab. The young prince dodged neatly to the outside, where he smacked a strong wrist into Inuya's neck and then slapped his other palm into the back of his head.

Inuya countered quickly, swinging up a powerful turning kick into his opponent's side. Tyrell bent under the blow and jumped a few steps back.

Inuya sliced sideways towards the Oratoan's midriff. The boy lunged forwards, right up to where he was too close for Inuya's attacks to reach. He drove two fingers into Inuya's shoulder and the young man's arm shot right back. Tyrell then turned quickly, driving his elbow into Inuya's sword arm and sending it into a spasm that saw him drop his sword.

The fight from here on out was purely hand-to-hand, with good strikes from either side. Though by the power of his pressure-point attacks, Tyrell eventually overcame Inuya.

There was loud applause as the two bowed and moved off. Inuya grabbed his sword, slapped Tyrell on the back and they both laughed.

"Next up are the northerners," said Roy. "I'm not sure what to expect from them, really."

"Me neither," Edward agreed. A moment later, he asked, "What's the north like?"

"Cold," answered Roy.

Siger and Stephen Meinhardt stepped into the spotlight, older and younger respectively. The audience watched in curiosity as they awaited the next showcase.

The pair first engaged in a high-pace sparring match, in which speed was the key. Their attacks were light, fast and exact. They moved so quickly that even Roy had trouble keeping up. After that, Stephen walked off until he was a fair distance away from his father and turned to face him.

Roy squinted as he held something up, struggling to see what it was. After a couple of seconds, he figured out it was a tennis ball. His puzzling on what the duo planned to do with a tennis ball was solved when Siger swiftly drew his sidearm and aimed it above Stephen's head.

With a swift upwards toss, the younger man threw the ball high into the air. The crowds watched it soar for a moment. In the blink of an eye, the crack of Siger's gun sent the ball spiralling to earth in a shower of green felt.

There was a loud round of applause at this stunt, and then another when Stephen easily pulled of the same feat.

Then he took something small and shiny out of his pocket.

In shock, the crowd realised it was a coin.

_Fwip!_

_BANG!_

There was a stunned silence as Stephen walked a couple of metres away and picked something up off the floor. He held it up and turned.

A fifty cen piece, with a bullet hole right through the middle. Stephen proved it by sticking his finger through the hole and wearing the wounded coin like a ring.

It was Siger's turn to toss the coin this time and Stephen fired. His aim was ever-so-slightly off, leaving a hole in the corner of the coin.

"That… That's amazing," Edward muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Roy simply shrugged. If it got down to it, Hawkeye was probably a better shot.

As the northerners stepped out, the team from the west stepped in. With their hulking forms and the stack of weights they carried with them, it didn't take much to figure out their plan.

Several grunting, sweat-filled minutes of massive weights being tossed around and huge metal beams being bent in half later, the Fergusons left the field and made way for the next team, the Avonese.

Ulfric and Felix Pravda moved onto the field carrying a small bow with a set of arrows, an orange and a large football. There was curious silence as Ulfric handed the bow to his son and walked a distance away. The man reached into his pocket and withdrew the orange. He reached up and placed it atop his head before dropping the ball to the ground and hopping onto it.

Felix raised the loaded bow at his father, who was balancing precariously atop the ball with a tiny orange on his head.

"No way," Edward breathed. With a disbelieving laugh, he added, "This is more like a circus act than a martial demo."

Roy nodded in agreement and Tyrell gaped from where he'd walked up behind them.

"Kami-sama help me," Inuya breathed. "What a start."

They watched as Felix pulled the string taught on his bow and steadied the arrow towards the orange perched on the head of the wobbling Ulfric.

A moment of intense silence drew out as the boy lined up his aim. And all of a sudden there was a _twang-whoosh-shuck-thud_.

The orange fell to the ground, perfectly pierced by an eleven-year-old's arrow.

"Well," Edward said, breaking the group's stunned silence. His wide golden eyes blinked a couple of times before he looked around at them.

"That sure ain't something you see every day."

* * *

**There we go! I'm sorry it's short, but I haven't had much time recently. Things like family and school and career choices and anime got in the way… (Because of that, the next few updates might be a little late, but I'll try not to leave it too long.)**

**Speaking of, I recently got back into Black Cat. It was one of the first manga I read, and I had forgotten how much I love Sven! :3**

**As for my age, most of you said either 14-15 or 19-21. That does make sense.**

**Thanks again everyone for all your support! And I really mean it! I know I say it a lot, but I do appreciate it. I mean, you'll have given me a hundred reviews when this chapter's up – if you deem the story worthy of the six it requires.**

**'Til next time! Zakuro away!**


	6. Slaps, Snaps and Cracks

**"****How did this happen," Zakuro said whilst Eren shouted and titans flailed around looking derpy in the background.**

**Alrighty then guys! This update's a little bit late, but things such as ridiculous curriculum choices, Jean's face and MA CHÈRE MAMAN got in the way.**

**So anyway, I somehow found myself watching Attack on Titan. I almost never watch things that are currently popular, but I somehow found myself kidnapped by Armin and his she-man hair. So there… (I AM DOCTOR SEUSS)**

**Hope you guys enjoy! This is mostly more introductory stuff, but I'm getting all plotty and stuff next chapter. Which reminds me, I need to get more time for writing. I'm so far behind, it's not even funny…**

**ONWARDS**

* * *

The demonstrations continued after Ulfric and Felix walked out, leaving the audience in awe of the boy's precision with such a weapon. Although theatrical, the Avonese team's stunt had left even the Fuhrer with a look of surprise on his stoic face.

"It's those two southern jerks next," remarked Edward as he watched Ulfric pat Felix on the head just outside the ring.

"Should be interesting, at least," said Roy. "I'd like to see the major's take on Lightning Alchemy. It's not an easy style to apply. And with auto-mail, it's quite risky too."

"I'm sure he's got something up his sleeve apart from a metal arm," Edward replied, catching Roy by surprise. The next sentence cleared it up. "For all his sneaky ass bastardyness, he seems smart enough."

The two southerners strode out onto the field. Amory had some long weapon strapped to his back and his father had taken off his military jacket. There was a sword strapped to his hip.

Roy cocked his head. "A metal arm…metal sword…metal staff too, by the looks of it."

Edward frowned. "He must have a really good control over the electrical current then."

"We can only assume so."

The first part of the demonstration was pretty average. The pair sprang about slashing at each other in a match, Theodore with his sword and Amory with what Edward and Roy could now see was definitely some sort of spear. The way it glinted in the sunlight proved it was metal.

Roy analysed their fight out of instinct. They were part of the same army, but a little information on the fighting style of the southerners couldn't hurt. He supposed it might come in useful at some point throughout the competition.

That and Roy just wasn't a very trusting person.

The Schuylers fought with speed as a main trait, though not as fast as the team from the north. They looked intently focused on the fight at hand. Not once did either one of them look away from their opposition, not once did they falter.

Amory's fighting style clearly took after his father's, though with some quirks of an outside influence. Both of them kept their strikes short and precise. Not a single shot went wasted with these two. As well as this, they both moved quickly on their feet, darting back and forth like snapping dogs.

However, Theodore's style was more compact. Amory's differed in that he had a wide stance and was slower to strike, as if he carefully considered each attack and it's outcome. Roy also noticed that each time he struck, he left himself pretty open. His left arm lacked a lot of the precise control his right showed as well.

As for Theodore, he always took a step sideways before he attacked. On top of that, his defence was pretty weak.

By the time the fight ended, Roy had gathered enough intelligence to feel safe enough should it come to blows with the southerners. He had no doubt Edward had done the same, and probably with even more detail. Being a practised martial artist had its advantages.

Theodore took a few steps back to give Amory room.

This was what Roy and Edward had been waiting for.

Tyrell must have caught the change in atmosphere around the two as he looked over and asked, "Something you've been looking forward to?"

Roy made a noise of confirmation. "The kid claims to be an expert in Lightning Alchemy. We're curious."

Edward nodded in agreement.

"S'that a fact…"

Amory stepped confidently up to the middle of the arena and raised his spear into the air. With a 'hup', he flipped it blade side down and stabbed it into a crack in the cobblestones.

Everyone watched on in anticipation as Amory took a breath and grabbed onto the staff he'd driven into the ground.

Edward watched closely as the air around Amory seemed to flicker in darkness for the briefest of moments, almost so fast the boy thought it might have been a blink.

And then there was a flash.

At first Edward thought it was just the zap of alchemical reaction that came with each transmutation, but it stuck around and the boy remembered just what kind of alchemy Amory specialised in.

Weak splashes of lightning shot through the air around Amory's staff, crackling in and out of the metal pole. Edward narrowed his eyes as Amory gritted his teeth and leant his head forward.

_Crack!_

In a split second, the wispy flashes from around the spear vanished and a huge, white-hot bolt tore from the pole up into the air.

Edward's eyes widened at the flash of lightning, though it only lasted a second. A bright flash followed the bolt and it disappeared just as suddenly as Amory had conjured it.

Theodore strode back over and wrenched the spear from the concrete. He patted his son's shoulder as he handed the weapon to him and the pair left the spotlight to the sound of excited applause.

Edward's gaze stuck firmly to Amory as the young man exited. He nodded as his suspicions were confirmed by the way the southern alchemist leant heavily on his staff for support.

"Did you catch all of that?" Roy asked.

Edward nodded. "I did. He's got the transmutation circle he needs carved onto his palm so that he can activate it when he's touching the medium – which was the staff, in this case – and circulate a charge of electrical energy through it. The circle's on his metal arm not only for convenience, but it ensures the current will move outwards as opposed it up the metal of his arm as it might had he the circle on his flesh arm."

"I'd figured as much as well," Roy said. "Minus that bit about the auto-mail."

"His style of alchemy is one that's very rare. As opposed to transmuting elements and other tangible substances, he's getting right in there and transmuting the energy itself," Edward continued. "Where I would rearrange structures to form golems and you would alter the positioning of air molecules and currents, he's turned himself into an actual transducer. He draws energy from one source and somehow alters it into electrical energy which he stores within the staff."

"My thoughts exactly." Roy glanced around. "So, that dark flash… I'm assuming he drew in a burst of light energy and transmuted it into electricity, stored it for a moment, then discharged it all at once. But in order to prevent it from getting out of control once it was in the air, he needed to transmute it back into light, which was the final flash we saw."

"I'd place my bets on that." Edward looked behind himself at Roy. "But…"

"But?"

"Controlling something as fiddly as energy takes a lot of strength as well as skill. Holding that electricity within the staff shouldn't be too hard, but keeping it limited to a certain space in the air would take a lot of effort. It did look like it had taken a lot out of him…"

Roy nodded. "I see what you mean. Flame Alchemy was a lot like that at first too. Controlling so many things at once can be taxing on the body of a young person."

The babbling of the crowd had not decreased as the Central team stepped onto the field. Reece and Aidan Rothford looked no less egocentric than they had upon the day of their arrival, waving and smiling as they paraded onto their waiting stage.

Roy smirked as he heard Edward and Tyrell making quiet hissing and booing noises.

Overall, Roy saw nothing special about the tricks of the Central team. Sure they were skilled enough with their weaponry, but after everything he'd just seen… The Central effort paled in comparison.

However, there were a few things about the Central team's demo that caught Roy's attention.

The first was their ability to keep the interest of the audience even when following such a performance as Lightning Alchemy. There was something that people seemed to find riveting about the Central team, though neither Roy nor Edward could pinpoint it. There was just…_something_…about them that commanded absolute attention.

It might have been the second thing he noticed – the way their demeanour completely changed for the situation. Where they had, upon their arrival, been kissing up to the Fuhrer and acting like they'd had absolutely no martial training at all, they now acted with strict behaviour and tight, organised movements. Now they acted as expected of a general and his officer son.

Smooth, calculated and skilled.

The third and final thing Roy noticed was the physical power Reece possessed. The strength behind the tight grip the older man had given Roy's hand when they'd shaken their meeting the other day was put into practise when they sparred. Reece easily tossed his son about as if he were formed from pillow stuffing.

Roy's heart rate picked up as the pair took a bow, having finished their demonstration. It was Edward's and his turn next. They had nothing planned, just something along the lines of 'we should use alchemy'.

Edward elbowed Roy in the arm. "Coming?"

The man nodded. The other teams had already flaunted their strengths, there was no point holding back. The colonel considered cutting out displaying their combat skills on account of a possible edge in later events, but figured the other teams probably already knew they weren't lacking in that department.

_We'll just see what happens_, he thought. He turned and walked for the gate, but stopped when he caught Edward vaulting the fence out of the corner of his eye.

A second later, he was over too and they were both walking towards the centre of the space.

There was a rumble amongst the crowds at this point. Many of them knew just what the Eastern team had to offer, and the sight of the State's infamously disobedient dog, Edward Elric, wearing an Amestrian military uniform was an oddity that just couldn't go without a comment.

"What are you going to do?" asked Edward quietly.

Roy flashed his teeth and raised a hand, fingers at the ready. "What do you think?"

"Why did I even bother to ask…?"

"Stop here," said Roy once they were some distance away from the barrier. They weren't in the centre like the other teams had been, but more towards the opposite side from the Fuhrer's stage.

"Give me something to work around," the colonel ordered. "Golems, towers, projectiles… Whatever you see fit. Set something up for me to avoid."

"You got it," replied Edward. He dropped to his knees like a stone and slapped the earth heartily.

How he did this time and time again without flinching as his skin slammed into the ground was beyond Roy.

An instant later, forms began to shoot up from the ground. At first they resembled great rounded cylinders with no features, but they gradually moulded into totems with faces and decoration styled in Edward's signature tackiness.

Roy sighed as the crowd whooped and cheered. Would the kid ever grow a sense of taste? Though he had to admit… Despite the horrible finishing, Edward's transmutation was near perfection. The hulking totems stood metres high, each decorated lavishly with spikes and skulls. Some were shorter than others and all were uniquely designed.

Roy glanced at Edward. _The kid _is_ a prodigy after all._

"Give me some thinner ones too." Smirk. "That is, if you can keep up the transmutation."

"Like hell I couldn't!" retorted Edward. "This isn't even half my strength!"

At those words, ten or so thinner totems shot from the earth between the larger ones, towering above the ground. Each one was adorned with either fangs, bat wings, spikes or a gruesome face even a chimera would shrink away from.

Loud cheering echoed from all around and there was a drumming noise as people began thumping the barricade enthusiastically. Roy thought he caught a familiar voice whooping, but it might just have been his imagination.

He felt a thrill run through his body as he raised a hand that was set to snap. It had been a while since he'd used Flame Alchemy this way. He hoped he could still nail the control.

_Alright_. He closed his eyes and took a breath. _The wind is blowing in from north-north-east, but only faint. Air pressure and oxygen levels can be safely assumed normal. Moisture level…optimum as far as control goes. The conditions are close to perfect. All this hinges on is my flawless execution_.

He opened his eyes. _Better not screw it up!_

_Snap!_

The air before Roy's glove shimmered and contracted in a solid outwards stream. Almost in the exact same second, a red zap of alchemical light shot through the warped air and sped towards Edward's totem field.

At once an almighty blast rocked the area. Roy's fringe lashed around his face like miniature whips, stinging his forehead. He squinted against both it and the flames.

As the initial shock wave died down, he could hear the crowd's awestruck thrum begin to pick up once more. It was only just audible over the roar of flames.

In the field ahead, flames circled the towering structures like a sea of hungry wolves, circling, snapping, growling, but never touching. The fire surged through the whole area, but never did it come close to the barrier or any of the totems Edward had created. Roy held his arm steady as his eyes flickered analytically from point to point.

Monitoring, adjusting.

Supervising, ordering.

Watching, controlling.

He was the Flame Alchemist, king of the incalculable and uncertain. He was Roy Mustang, the human embodiment of everything a flame was.

Bright, powerful, unpredictable, compelling and energetic.

Destructive, uncontrollable, scorching, incomprehensible and controversial.

And he loved it.

There were times when Roy wished with all his heart he had never been entrusted with Berthold Hawkeye's secret. There were times when he loathed his gloves more than he'd hated anything in his life. There were times when the sight of flames drove him mad.

Now was not one of those times.

Now was one of the times when he felt in control, like he was king of the world. Now was one of the times he felt power coursing in his veins and setting his heart ablaze. Now was one of the times he felt as free as a bird, soaring through an endless sky on wings made of fire.

It felt great.

"And now we make it interesting!" came a cry from Roy's left.

"Huh?" the flames flickered ever so slightly as Roy started in surprised and glanced back to Edward. The boy had stood up and looked like he was ready to run straight at Roy's flames.

"Fullmetal, don't you dare—"

But even the king of the uncontrollable could not give orders to Edward Elric.

The boy sprinted forward.

Roy couldn't put out this amount of fire all at once. He would need to adjust his flames to move aside for the young alchemist sprinting through their midst. It would be difficult to alter the pattern he had going, but Roy could still…

"What the… Dammit Edward." Roy bared his teeth as the boy halted a short distance from the wall of fire and clapped. He fell into a crouch, his hands met the earth and next thing anyone knew he was sailing through the air with a stone tower at his feet.

Roy let out a breath of relief as the boy landed atop one of his totems. Calculating how to adjust the flames had he decided to land on the ground would have been tough. What was the kid thinking?

As if he'd sensed the question, Edward sprung forward off the first totem and along to the next. Then, tower by tower, he moved towards the other end of the area, slapping the totems with both hands as he went. He landed on each and every totem, even the ones Roy thought too high to reach. Each landing came with a flash of alchemical reaction.

_What the hell is he trying to do?_ Roy thought, still working on keeping the flames circling. He was ready to create an opening in them in a second, should Edward miss his footing.

On the last one, he clapped, slapped, drew a spear from the stone and launched himself clear of the flame zone. He landed heavy on the ground in a fighting stance, his blade pointed towards the Fuhrer's platform.

A second later, the stone pillars made an ominous groaning noise before each one simultaneously exploded, sending debris all across the field and blowing Roy's flames into wisps of smoke and dust.

"Hmph." The colonel brought his arm back to his chest, narrowing his eyes. "The kid trapped air pockets inside his own transmutations and made them as solid as possible. My flames heated the air inside so it expanded and forced them apart…just like massive pieces of stone popcorn. And the air pockets were alternate sizes, so they'd all go off at the exact same time."

Roy closed his eyes and smiled to himself. _Hate to say it, but the boy gets more amazing with every stunt he pulls._

Edward tightened his grip on his spear. The look on his face was identical to when he'd last pointed his blade in the Fuhrer's direction.

_"This exam has room for improvement, don't ya think?" Edward had given his head a slight cock as he'd moved his weapon away. "Some assassin might just use my idea to knock you or your men off."_

The Fuhrer's smile, the one so light-hearted that somehow bore the look of a sharp blade, was the look Edward received from the platform.

_"I admire his guts," the Fuhrer had said. "Still rather inexperienced in the ways of the world though."_

And even now, Roy knew those words still rang true.

He also remembered he words he himself had spoken on that same day.

_"You're here to pretend the past never happened and successfully obtain your State license…while I'm here to gain good publicity from finding exceptional rare talents like you."_

And the boy was indeed exceptional. He had bought Roy some approval boosts back then. But times had changed.

And Roy found himself pondering yet again how Edward had grown from a talented tool to the boy the colonel cared for like family.

And how he'd managed to lose to him _again._

* * *

**Alright, I hope that wasn't too bad! XD I'm sorry the last few chapters have been so short.**

**And guess what this Friday is! That's right! It's the third! *0* In 2014! A hundred years since stuff happened in FMA! So you can expect a fanfic for it from me, through probably late…*sweats* Probably a poem too…**

**I don't have much time, so I can't write review responses here, I just wanna say how awesome all your reviews and things make me. Honestly, I reckon I don't deserve it sometimes. Thank you so much!**

**And now! To marathon FMAB! (That's right… I finally bought it! XD) ZAKURO AWAAAAY! *Don't forget, 3****rd**** Oct 11!***


	7. Quiver

**Hello guys! It's been a while now…and I know I said I'd get to the exciting stuff soon…but there's another chapter getting in the way! I think I'm dragging this out a little, so tell me if you like, desperately want me to shut up and get to the point already. *sweats***

**So anyway, my FMA tribute is gonna be really late (as I usually am) so that should be up at some point in the probably distant future. I don't think I have any other news, so let's just say I like banana chips and get on with it! XD**

* * *

Roy breathed deeply, a long, steadying motion.

His eyes were trained forward, straight onto his target. Concentration was drawn onto his face in the form of slight creases and the focus in his narrowed gaze. Nothing would distract him from this.

His arm was held straight forward, ready to shoot. A tremor ran through his hand, shaking his aim and forcing him to readjust.

Another breath.

He clenched his jaw and loosened up his hand, holding steady aim for the chest. One more twitch. One more shot. One more hole. _Come on._

He tensed his finger and prepared to release a final attack.

However, just as he was about to fire, the shaking started up again and he dropped his hand at his side. Why couldn't he fire the damn gun?

"Problem, Mustang?"

The colonel glanced to his left. It was Edward who had asked him the question. The boy was standing in his own lane in the firing range, pistol in hand.

The colonel felt a shudder run down his spine at the sight of the boy clutching such a weapon.

It was a couple of hours after the introduction (an unofficial event Roy and Edward had clearly won, in the latter's opinion) and the teams were currently competing in the firing range with each person firing five bullets out of a regulation Amestrian sidearm. They would be judged later and a winner announced, but all of them knew there was no chance with the northerners in the running.

There were several holes piercing Edward's target, the humanoid bullseye at the far end of the range. Out of Edward's five shots, one had hit just right of the forehead, two on either side of the torso and one in the leg. The final had barely missed, leaving a chip in the target's shoulder.

Roy gave the boy a quick look up and down. Given the chance and the right training, the kid could make quite the marksman. His stomach turned at the thought of Edward walking that path.

Roy glanced away from Edward's cocked head towards his own target. Roy had taken four shots out of five, of which two had missed, one had hit the shoulder and the last had clipped the top of the head.

Edward leaned over. "Not a very good shot, are you?"

"Out of practise," replied Roy. "You're not too shabby though."

Edward shrugged and grinned a little. "S'pose it ain't bad for a first shot."

"Good job. I guess your inbuilt talent extends even further than what we already know."

Edward flashed a toothy grin. "I guess we can't say the same for Flashpants down there, huh?"

Roy glanced over his shoulder. A few lanes down stood Amory and his pistol, looking increasigly frustrated. There was only one mark on his target – a chip in the arm.

Roy allowed himself a little smirk. Even though Edward wasn't his son, he still felt a thrill of victory knowing he was beating General Shuyler's son.

As expected, the northerners had fired ten bullseyes, both in straight vertical lines of five holes.

Felix had shot two eyes and a smiling mouth into his target, whilst his father had hit the head, chest, both shoulders and the abdomen perfectly in line.

Inuya was wailing something about how he was always missing. His first shot – a perfect hole right in the forehead – appeared to have been a fluke.

Umaro seemed to be struggling as well. He wasn't well versed in the world of modern weaponry. Roy thought he'd have better luck throwing a sword at the target.

Or a bow and arrow… Yes, that would probably be a wiser option.

Edward glanced towards Tyrell. The other boy had more or less given up trying to figure out how to use the gun. Annoyed, he opened a case of nearby bullets and grabbed one before tossing it as hard as he could at the target. It fell short and Dominico laughed as he explained the firearm to his son.

The king had managed a fair enough effort, three holes on the torso. After Tyrell's five shots, there was one bullet hole through the target's neck.

The rest of the shots were around average, what was to be expected from Amestrian troops. Just about everyone had finished with their five shots by now. The only one left to shoot was Roy.

"You've got one more," Edward pointed out. "Make it count."

Roy nodded. He closed his eyes and attempted another deep breath. In the same instant, he opened his eyes and took aim.

The gun quivered in his grasp once again and he growled. _What's with this shaking? Dammit._

Nevertheless, he ignored it and held his aim steady.

_Bam!_

Roy lowered the gun. A fresh hole marked his target, just to the left of the bullseye – right where the heart would be.

"Not bad," Edward remarked.

"Hm." Roy looked down at the pistol before setting it on the counter at his side. He held his right arm out in front of himself and stared down his trembling hand.

_Is it because of the gun? I never did like firing them, but not so much I'd shake at the thought,_ Roy frowned._ Too much paperwork? Did my hand sieze up? Maybe I'm just tired…_

Edward looked around the colonel's shoulder at his hand. "What are you staring at?"

The man dropped his arm and shook his head. "Nothing. It's rifles next, right?"

* * *

The marksman teams had continued to impress throughout the rifle stage of the firearm assessment, and Amory had continued to un-impress. Inuya had managed to repeat the exact same fluke, with one bullseye and four complete misses. His father hadn't been much better.

The western team had made the rifles look like toothpicks when using them, and seemed to lack the fine judgement and gentle hand required for the task. Edward suspected their giant muscular fingers didn't fit in the triggers.

Roy worked a lot better behind a rifle, that much was evident. His bullets had all hit the target this time, though each one was ever so slightly off.

Edward performed at a level expected from a genius amateur, with four hits. Roy imagined Hawkeye would be proud of the boy's talent, but experience the same tingling uneasiness he had.

Edward hadn't a clue how to use the rifle at first, but Roy had made quick work of explaining the basics.

"One hand here, the other here," he'd said, kneeling beside Edward and adjusting his grip. "Line it up like so and…check in here. When you're set, squeeze the trigger and bam, you're good. After you've fired, come get me and I'll show you how to reload."

Edward nodded and frowned, moving a hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes. "Okay."

Roy disappeared and popped back a second later with a cap in hand. He slapped it on Edward's head to hold the straggling hair out of the way.

"Mm. Thanks." Edward closed one eye and wriggled to grip his rifle better.

Roy had nodded and moved over to his own station.

Afterwards, they'd walked over to the Mess for dinner. They'd been made aware that the Schuylers and Rothfords wouldn't be joining them, those two teams preferring to eat privately in their accommodations.

Hughes had enthusiastically greeted Roy upon his arrival, messing his hair up with a fist and presenting him with a plate of quiche and peas.

Edward watched the man being towed away by his friend after he'd received an excited congratulation.

"Now, I know it isn't Gracia's quiche or anything, but I figured you could use a little reward for that crazy display this morning. Talk about the comp going off with a blast! Oh by the way, there's a _whole stack_ o' papers in your office that need _your signature_ exclusively…" Hughes' voice gradually faded.

"Hello, brother!"

Edward jumped at the tinny voice from just behind, turning to find himself face-to-chest plate with his younger brother.

"Yeesh, Al! You scared the crap outta me."

"Oops, sorry. Though you'd think you'd hear a massive suit of hollow armour approaching from the other side of the room, especially given that he's your brother."

"Oh, shut up."

The pair's conversation went by unnoticed and uninterrupted until Edward was once again ambushed by Tyrell.

"Hey, Ed and Al! You grabbing any eats, man?"

"Dammit, Tyrell! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Maybe you ought to be more observant?"

"I'm just hungry! I don't function well when I'm hungry!"

"Of course."

"I'm serious!"

The three wandered towards the front of the hall, where Edward grabbed a tray and piled it with everything they had to offer.

"You sure you can handle all that?" Tyrell asked, looking worried as Edward spooned a generous helping of baked beans onto the side.

"This is my brother we're talking about," Alphonse said with a sigh. "Have you seen him eat before? He's like a horse."

"Growing child," Edward retorted and stuck a chicken drumstick in his mouth. "Le's fai' shea's."

"Huh?"

"He said 'seats'."

"Oh, me and dad have some over there. Come on and sit with me!"

The three boys made their way to the table Tyrell had left his food at. Dominico was at the next table over, conversing with Inuya, Umaro and Ulfric.

"We didn't get much of a chance to catch up the other day, huh?" the young shaman remarked, taking a bite of his bread roll.

Edward shook his head, mouth stuffed with sausage.

Tyrell grinned. "So what have you been up to? And, er… Have you gotten any further in…you know what?"

There was a clatter as Edward dropped his chicken bone in surprise.

Tyrell frowned.

The blond boy shook his head. "My bad. I forgot you knew about…" He flapped his arms a bit. "…all this."

Alphonse started. "H-he does? You told him?"

Edward shook his head. "He figured it out."

"Figured it out…?"

Tyrell shrugged. "Bits and pieces is all. Edward associates trauma, loss and family with his arm and leg. There's a mental block regarding it as well. I asked him about it, but to his credit, all I know is that you two did something you shouldn't have."

Alphonse looked down slowly. "Then… Then do you know about me too?"

Tyrell nodded sombrely. "To be honest, I was frightened by you at first. I didn't know what to think."

"When did you notice?"

Tyrell looked at him. "The second I met you. Explains why I went so pale when I bumped into you in Kin Palace, right? For someone with an ability like mine, it's as clear as day."

Alphonse gulped and glanced around.

"But I wouldn't worry," Tyrell murmured. "Even amongst the most skilled of all the shaman in Orato, power like this is a rarity. There's probably only one person like me appears every odd century."

There was a brief silence at the table.

"Are… Are you still scared of me?" Alphonse asked timidly.

Tyrell blinked. He smiled. "Not at all. In fact, the presence of someone I can't read is something of a comfort now that I'm used to it."

"You can't read Al's mind?" Edward asked, surprised.

"My 'power' is a combination of reading body language, facial expressions, subtle physical hints, psychic auras and waves. Since Alphonse has no facial expressions or bodily signals, it's very limited what I can see physically," Tyrell explained. "And psychically…his waves are like static, like I'm hearing them underwater or through something. It's strange, but kind of nice."

Edward and Alphonse looked at the boy in wonder. Could he perhaps aid them in their pursuit?

"So, no. The only thing I can read from Alphonse is that there's no-one there at all." Tyrell frowned. "Or maybe like, half a person? Not sure. You on the other hand…"

Edward went red as Tyrell said, "I can tell you're thinking you can use my power to get some info on your situation."

The teen alchemist looked at his feet. "I… Is there any way you can tell me if it's possible to bring his body back?"

Tyrell's eyes clouded. "I'm sorry. All I can read is what is before my own eyes."

The atmosphere of the table darkened and Edward set down his toast. He'd lost his appetite suddenly.

The heavy air shifted a little as a tray of mashed potatoes and green beans appeared at the end of the table.

Edward blinked blankly. "Who…"

Then a pale face with jet black hair and nervous blue eyes appeared next to the tray from under the table. "Um."

"Felix?" Tyrell asked, surprised.

The boy nodded. "C-can I sit here? My dad's talking to your dad about all that army stuff I don't know about yet."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Tyrell slid over a little to give Felix some room and the boy climbed onto the bench next to him.

"Thank you," he said. "What's your name again?"

"It's Tyrell," the boy said, leaning on his elbow. "And I'm a shaman. You know these two, I guess?"

"Yeah," Felix nodded. "Ed and Al. The little brother who's really big and the big brother who's really little."

Barely any heads turned at Edward's screeched reply to that statement. Many of the soldiers were used to hearing the boy's height rants by now and they all knew that you did _not,_ under _any_ circumstances, try to back the poor guy on the receiving end.

Though where even seasoned soldiers would have flinched at Edward's hollering, Felix giggled and covered his mouth.

"Somethin' funny, kid?" Edward grumbled.

"Your face goes really red when you shout," Felix remarked.

The comment made Edward flush again, though out of embarrassment this time.

Alphonse snickered and Tyrell joined in.

"Better keep your mouth shut, Ed," the shaman said. "If Roy hears you again, he might just come marching over here and give you a good ear warming."

"Tch!" Edward folded his arms on the table and put his chin in the middle, chewing on a spoon. "Like I give a damn."

"What was that, Fullmetal?"

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Tyrell mused sagely. He jumped in surprise at the soft contact of Felix grabbing his sleeve and shrinking away from Roy.

The colonel gave an impassive blink the boy's timid motion before looking back at Edward.

"I came over here to tell you not to bother waiting for me after dinner," the man said. "And what should I hear but the infamous Fullmetal once again running his mouth about how he's such a tough guy."

Edward bared his teeth. "Feh."

"Anyway," Roy continued, grabbing the boy's fork and pinching a sausage off his plate before he could protest. "I have some errands to run tonight, so feel free to sleep with your brother. I won't be back until late, so do as you wish with your time. Just please don't trash the dorm."

"I wouldn't!" snapped Edward. "And give my sausage back, you mangy State dog!"

"Once again, Fullmetal," Roy said haughtily as he turned. "The pot calling the kettle black."

The colonel bit the end of the sausage and strode off.

"Damn bastard," Edward grumbled. "Took my bloody fork."

"Shhh, Ed," Tyrell reprimanded. "No swearing! There's a kid in our midst."

"Hey! I'm eleven!" protested Felix. "I'm not a little kid anymore!"

Edward nodded knowingly. "Yeah. By the time I was eleven, I already knew more swearwords than Mustang does at twenty-whatever."

Tyrell shrugged. "Yeah, me too actually. Considering I come from a city full of drunken sailors."

Alphonse nodded. "And us a town of rowdy farmers."

Edward twitched an eyebrow. "Are you trying to say you actually know how to cuss, Alphonse?"

There was a giggle from inside the armour. "Just because I have the decency not to swear at everything doesn't mean I couldn't if I wanted to!"

Edward sweated. "So all this time I've had a brother who's just as foul-mouthed as me."

"Now I wouldn't say _that_."

"Foul-minded then?"

"Mmm…no."

"C'mon, Al! Ya gotta have some sort of fatal flaw!"

"Yeah. I'm related to you."

"Gack! How could you say that?!"

"You know I'm only kidding, brother."

"…Hmph."

"Heehee."

Tyrell smiled to himself. _These two are incredibly close. Completely different from myself and Livio._

For a moment, the young shaman pondered what it would be like to be close to his older brother. He ended up deciding that it would be strange and probably quite boring, given Livio's duties as crown prince.

_I'm quite content to watch these two_, Tyrell thought. _They're an entertaining pair, alright!_

* * *

Edward blinked a couple of times. His normally bright golden eyes were hidden from the world under a haze of darkness, his expression lost in the night. His thoughts and feelings would have gone unnoticed too, had Alphonse Elric not been present.

Because darkness doesn't obscure the heart, and we don't see emotion with our eyes.

"Brother?"

A quick silence fell as Edward contemplated pretending to be asleep. He kicked this thought away at the reminder Alphonse knew him better than that.

"Yeah?"

"You're awake…"

"Mm." Edward decided against the sarcastic retort he had formulated.

"What are you thinking?"

From the top bunk, the big brother rolled onto his side. He could lie. He could just say he was reminiscing. No… Al would see through it.

As he considered how to respond to that, Alphonse answered for him. "You're thinking about the colonel, aren't you?"

Edward grunted.

"What about him?"

After another silence, Edward replied, "He arrived back in our dorm three hours ago. That was eleven. Since then, he hasn't even turned the light off."

"Were you awake the whole time?" Alphonse asked, glancing out the tint window at Edward and Roy's dorm. His brother was right; there were indeed lights on in the room.

"No. I've been dozing on and off. But the clock on the wall ticks really strangely and it keeps waking me up. And every time I look at it, it tells me Mustang's going to be more and more tired come tomorrow." The iridium-tipped hands of that very clock moved closer towards three o'clock with every second.

"And you'll be tired too."

"Yeah, I'll be tired too."

The pair fell quiet.

"…Bro?"

"Mm?"

"Just checking."

Edward's eyes narrowed on the ceiling he could barely see. "I think I might go see what's up."

Alphonse's armour clanked. "Really?"

The bed creaked as Edward sat up. "Yeah. I mean, he'll drag us both down if he's too braindead to compete well tomorrow."

"I see…"

Edward twitched his limbs awake and made for the ladder, latching on to it with his hands and dropping to the cold ground. As he reached the door, he said, "Right. I'll be back in just a moment."

"Okay."

For all the heat of the day, East City's nights were deceptively cold.

Edward shivered in his shorts and thin muscle shirt as he dashed across the concrete to the dorm opposite. Little pebbles crunched under his auto-mail and dug painfully into his flesh foot. The light breeze caught his loose blond hair and blew it off his shoulders. He could smell grass on the wind and feel the prickle of the hair on his arms rising in a bid to keep him warm.

The world was a whole myriad of sensations most would take for granted, once which Edward vowed to return to his little brother.

"Knock knock, coming in," he muttered as he reached the other dorm, twisting the handle and stepping in out of the cold.

He glanced around the room, spotting Roy slumped over a desk in the corner. He wondered how many times in his life Roy had fallen asleep on a desk.

The boy walked cautiously up behind his superior, running his eyes over what covered the surface of the small table. He recalled Hughes saying something about papers that needed Roy's signature – these must be them.

There were two neat stacks in front of the colonel, one complete and one still needing signed. There was a single sheet half under his face, still with wet ink. He hadn't been out long.

Edward always thought it was weird to see Roy asleep. For a long time, he'd assumed the man was some kind of strange, inhuman creature that just interrupted his life without sleeping or eating or doing anything except paperwork.

Apparently not.

The Fullmetal Alchemist shook himself out of those memories and reached out to tap Roy's shoulder, seeing no reason to let him continue sleeping so uncomfortably. "Hey. Hey, Colonel…"

Roy snapped awake, grabbing Edward's hand and swinging. The colonel caught his punch an inch away from the blond teen's nose and confusion flickered across his drowsy features. The two held a gaze for a couple of seconds as the situation dawned on the colonel.

"Lucky you stopped there," said Edward surprisingly calmly as Roy let go of his hand, looking shocked. "My auto-mail is at your stomach."

"Y-yeah." Roy blinked a few times, trying to gather his wits. "My apologies. I have no idea what got into me."

Edward shrugged. "I snuck up on you. And, er…"

"What?"

"You've got some…ink on you…" Edward twirled his finger at his face.

Roy grimaced and rubbed his cheek. "Damn."

After semi-successfully removing the black smudges from his skin, the colonel raised an eyebrow at his young charge. "Why are you in here?"

"Came to see why the lights were still on," Edward explained. "I didn't want you to be too tired for tomorrow's event."

Roy nodded. "Fair enough. Couldn't you sleep either?"

Edward shook his head. "On and off. The clock in there bugs me."

"You could always take it down."

Edward shook his head again. "Alphonse likes the sound of clocks."

Roy stretched and rose to his feet. "I see."

"Though I don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep again," Edward admitted.

Roy closed his eyes. He was exhausted, he'd say that much. But Edward needed sleep more than he did, and the thought of the kid suffering through the hours until dawn pretending he was asleep for his brother's sake wasn't one that appealed to him at all.

The colonel smirked, opening his eyes on Edward's curious face. "Feel like taking a walk with me, then?"

* * *

**Have these chapters all been really short or is it just me? I have to speed up here… Good thing the next chapter's perfect for it! ):D**

**So anyway, happy birthday to my good friend Toph Hitsugaya (check her out if you're into Bleach or Hetalia – her current baby is a Soul Eater mental hospital fic that I can recommend if you like that stuff)! I hope you had a totally awesomesauce day!**

**And I just feel like asking, which fictional characters do you guys think you're the most like? Out of curiosity…**

**And that's that for now! (Also, does anyone else think Havoc dyed his hair brown and snuck into AoT to be Jean? I mean, they basically have the same name and everything!)**

**ZAKURO AWAAAY!**


	8. From Walk to Run

**Hello from another country where it's almost Halloween! ):D**

**My chapters are finally reaching an acceptable size! And the poll said our favourite homunculus is Greedling. (To whoever said Envy, DISOWNED! Kidding, kidding, I love you all.)**

**So anyway, here's the chapter! It's a little bit awkward in the first bit... I'm not good with the feelsy bits! XD RoyEd shippers, feel free to take it romantically always.**

* * *

Edward looked up and caught the colonel smirking.

"Feel like taking a walk with me, then?" he asked, arms folded over his white shirt.

Edward's face fell into a frown. Roy wasn't normally one to give up his time for the sake of others, especially not his precious sleep. All those times Roy had turned down pleas for assistance from other officers who wanted the aid of his expertise in their cases proved that. Roy was infamous for never accepting an assignment that he wasn't required to do.

But then again, he had given his time for Edward on a couple of previous instances…

_"I've seen and heard enough messed up nonsense to fill a lifetime. What's a few more on the list?" _He'd listened when anyone else would have shrunk back.

_"You're welcome." _He'd helped him out when his auto-mail was giving him grief.

_"Tyrell… Fix…him up…please?" _Hell, he'd even asked for Edward to be treated first after he'd nearly drowned.

"Well?" Roy shifted his weight. "I don't mind if you want to go back to your brother and lie down, but I'm going to stretch my legs regardless."

_Oh… So he was planning on heading out anyway. It had nothing to do with me_, Edward thought. He was embarrassed to feel a sense of disappointment settle in his chest_. Hey! Get out! It's not as if I wanted him to care!_

"Yeah," Edward muttered. "Sure, let's go."

Roy smiled. "Good. I don't much like walking around at night by myself."

So the two of them stepped out into the darkness, illuminated only by the flickering lamps that always seemed to escape the attention of the maintenance division.

"Brrr," Edward grumbled. "I forgot it was cold out…"

"Good thing I'm here, huh?" Roy said, handing him his black coat.

"But won't you get—"

The colonel shook his head and Edward noticed he'd slung his uniform jacket over his shoulders as well as grabbing the cloak for him.

"It might be a tad big, but I imagine you'd prefer the coat over my uniform," Roy said as they walked down the path between the rows of dorms.

Edward nodded. "Yeah. I've had enough uniforms to do me for a year. Maybe even more."

They moved for a bit in silence. Edward took the opportunity to look closely at his superior. That oddness about his behaviour hadn't left him. What could it be? What was weighing so heavily on the colonel's mind? Did Lieutenant Hawkeye know? Did Hughes know? Maybe no-one had noticed but the young alchemist himself.

Maybe now was the time to ask.

"Will your brother be wondering about you?" asked Roy, breaking Edward out of his silence.

"Huh? …No, I told him I'd be back."

"Wouldn't that make him worry…?"

Edward shrugged.

They passed by several more darkened dorms. The cold gnawed at Edward's hands, feet and face, but Roy's thick military cloak kept him quite warm. He assumed the thing must have been military regulation as he'd seen numerous other soldiers with the same thing, including Hawkeye. Although he didn't think it suited any of them quite as well as it suited Roy Mustang.

The lull in conversation had made the boy acutely aware of the dead silence surrounding the base. At this time, there were no cars on the road and no exercises on the training grounds. The only people awake in the base would be the night staff, a few late officers who needed to finish off their work, a couple of MPs on patrol and those men who never left their posts unmanned such as a communications officer.

The pair reached the centre of the dorm sector, standing in the noiseless night. All around them slept the soldiers who'd given up their rights to live as civilians to serve the Amestrian military. Each of them had up and left their lives, homes and families a long way behind to fight for the protection of all three. They'd taken what they'd needed and moved into these dorms, sometimes prepared for a new job and a new life and sometimes not.

The thought of these many forces of will combining to make the military a force for the protection of the people was more than an idealistic notion to the colonel standing in the midst of the sleeping soldiers. A shiver ran down his spine and he was sure it wasn't just the cold.

Roy looked around. Each man here had volunteered his life in service of his home, and he hoped most had been willing to do it for the sake of the people living there and not just to get paid. The Amestrian army could be as corrupt as they came, but Roy liked to cast his gaze to the bright patches every so often, to remind himself what he was fighting for.

The bright patches being those hundreds upon hundreds of men who had enlisted out of the desire to fight for the lives of their fellow humans, for freedom and peace and justice. Call it naïve, but the Flame Alchemist believed in those things. He believed in the dream of an Amestris united, of a military who served more than itself and a world where people could live in safety no matter their race.

And every so often he needed to be reminded of that, because people like General Yu liked to come along and smother his visions with their dishonest and crooked reality.

He glanced to the young alchemist at his side. He also looked to be lost in thought. The boy had joined the military under the name Fullmetal for the research grants, but with better reason than most.

Edward was the older brother, the one born with the responsibility of looking out for the younger who came after. When he looked back at his past self, he saw everything he'd done thus far as a failure to Alphonse. To atone for what he'd done, Edward stubbornly worked towards restoring what he thought he'd stolen from Alphonse.

He joined the military as a protector, as someone who cared deeply for not only his brother, but every good person he happened across. Although stubbornly snappy and dismissive about the fact, Edward was indeed a person who would offer his heart and soul to protect the life of another.

And that, in Roy's eyes, made him one of the truest soldiers of them all.

Despite the fact that he hated the military and couldn't take orders if he worked in a fast food joint…

"Hey, Ed."

Said young man's head jerked up with a grunt.

"You've seemed off recently. Something on your mind?" asked the colonel, trying to remain casual. He'd realised if you dared approach Edward like you were trying to coddle him, all you'd get for your efforts were snide remarks. He assumed the boy was taking it like you were trying to insult him.

Edward snorted. "I'm acting off?" he repeated incredulously. He followed with a muttered, "I was gonna ask you the same thing."

Roy's expression became surprised with the twitch of his thin eyebrows. "You were what?"

Edward gave a start, realising he'd just asked the question he'd been racking his brains trying to figure out how to word all night completely by accident.

He sighed. _My 'genius' might extend further than I thought in the field, but give me something with words in it and I'm about as smart as a brick._

"You just seemed really…" Edward shrugged. "…I dunno…"

Roy's surprised look grew as Edward proceeded to wriggle his fingers in the air and pull a face.

"…wonky."

"'Wonky'?"

"Shut up."

"Really? Wonky was the best you could do?"

"Tch! I try to be nice and you make fun of me! This is why I hate you! Now shut your mouth or I'll make your face as wonky as the rest of you!"

"You…" Roy smirked. That smirk grew into a smile, which grew into a chuckle, which grew into a laugh. Before Edward could get the blush off his face, Roy was laughing so hard he had no hope of finishing whatever comeback he had planned.

"Aw, shut up!" Edward complained, tangling his fingers in his hair. "You frikkin' bastard."

Roy finally caught his breath, straightening up and letting out a happy sigh. "Things like that are the reasons I love you."

He caught himself as soon as the words slipped out of his lips. His mouth was still open as he frowned, giving him the look of a man who'd just discovered the hole he was now standing in.

He tried to scramble up to the level of the boy looking at him with a face of pure shock and concern, almost one of horror.

"G-gimme a break, it's the middle of the night! It's quitting time for my brain at one o'clock and I…I just say whatever I'm thinking, alright?" he stammered.

Edward cocked his head slowly, giving Roy a look of extreme scrutiny. "So you were thinking it anyway?"

"I-I mean whatever comes into my head! Wait, no, I just say whatever… I say things I don't mean! That's…! That's not it either, is it…?" Roy sighed. For all his efforts, he had ended up closer to the centre of the planet than out of his hole.

As Edward continued to stare, Roy folded his arms and looked to the sky. "Gee… I have such a way with words. What I'm trying to say is I…I appreciate you. I just said love by mistake. You know when you hear something so many times it sticks? Well…that."

Edward dropped the stare and looked off. "Oh."

Roy wasn't facing the boy, but the quiet tone of that single syllable only spelled out once thing.

_Disappointment?_

Roy unfolded his arms and turned to face Edward. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright, you got me. Neither of us are much good with this kind of thing, are we? I mean, you'd think for a master of the façade, I'd know how to speak my mind when it comes down to it, but… Let's just leave it at sometimes I'm even worse at matters of the heart than you."

Edward blinked. "What are you trying to say?"

"Thing is, Ed, I do love you," Roy explained. He swallowed. "Obviously not in a romantic sense, you know…because I just don't swing that way…or fancy getting arrested for harassment of a minor…"

He muttered something else under his breath that sounded to Edward like a string of curses.

Roy straightened up. "Kid… You're like family to me. You still remember back in Kin Palace? We had an agreement – we feel enough like family already, why not admit it?"

"How could I forget?" mumbled Edward. "As much as I hate to say it, I was… I was kinda happy about it."

Roy nodded. "So was I. Heck, I still am. So when I say things like that, just keep in mind that I'm kind of an idiot sometimes and think of what it is I'm trying to say."

Edward shifted his weight. "Okay."

"Because if love means caring for someone so deeply you'd be willing to die for them as if they were family," Roy took a breath, "then yes, I love you."

Edward gulped. "That's okay, but don't say it out loud. It sounds weird coming from you."

Roy bore his teeth. "Tch! Well it's out there now, so I shouldn't have to say it again! Just remember it and we won't have this problem!"

Edward gave a small smile and scuffed at the dirt. "Thanks, old man… But please, don't go dying for me, huh?"

"If it can be avoided," Roy agreed.

Silence fell on the two standing in the middle of the dorms. The stars twinkled few and far between, but they were a pretty sight nonetheless.

"If we're doing this then I love you too in a non-awkward way," Edward blurted out, his face burning. "In a non-awkward way."

"There's no way in hell it isn't going to be awkward," said Roy. "Even if specified."

"Shut up," Edward retorted. "That's the best I can do."

Roy smiled, gripping the boy's shoulder and pulling him close. "It's good enough," he replied, ruffling the blonde mess Edward called his hair.

Edward smiled and yawned. Suddenly the time came crashing down on his head like rubble. "Hey," he said sleepily. "You never answered my question."

"That can wait for another time," said Roy, shifting his ruffle to a stroke. "Just rest now. My head's too busy a place to be at this time of night."

"I know," Edward mumbled, blinking slowly. "I can hear it sometimes… It sounds so lonely in there."

Roy's eyes widened.

"I don't… I don't like it when you're like that… All tiny and…alone. It's scary."

"I-I'll try not to be, then," answered Roy.

"Idiot… You can't make _yourself _un-lonely… That's why you're there in the first place. You try to solve everything by yourself and it makes…it makes everyone…disappear."

Roy frowned as Edward's eyes slipped closed. What did he mean? Was he trying to tell him to open up more? Hadn't he done enough of that already? What more could the kid want?

He sighed and hefted the heavy boy into his arms, thankful he was small and they didn't have far to go.

"You're a weird kid, Fullmetal," Roy stated solemnly. "Telling me not to bottle it up when _you're_ a goddamned kettle waiting to blow."

The man made his way slowly back towards the dorm, careful to keep his balance with the slumbering alchemist in his arms. Edward was no easy cargo, but Roy was determined not to wake the boy. Getting him to sleep comfortably was good. He knew from experience. He always knew from experience.

Sometimes this kid seemed to go through everything Roy did, only at twice the severity and at half the age.

Maybe that's why he felt this way about him.

By the time Roy reached the opposing dorms assigned to the Elrics and himself, his arms were shaking with the need to give out. He struggled to push the handle down with his elbow, traipsed inside and nestled his cargo into the bottom bunk.

Granted, this was _his_ bed after Edward had given up bottom bunk when Roy had stubbornly refused to sleep metres in the air for another night, but there was no way he could get the boy up that high.

He stifled a yawn whilst watching the kid curl into the blankets.

"Looks like it's the top bunk for me again," Roy muttered.

Across the pathway, the soul of Alphonse Elric smiled to itself as his hollow body settled onto the carpet.

"I knew that connection wasn't gone for good."

* * *

"Colonel… Colonel…! _Colonel_!"

"S-sir!" Roy barked hurriedly, snapping upright.

_Clang!_

"Ah! I'm so sorry!"

Alphonse waved his hands around spasmodically as Roy gripped his forehead and made noises like a broken wood chipper. He swore there was a cone-shaped dent in his forehead where it had connected with Alphonse's helmet.

Behind the armour-bound boy ran his brother, flinging himself from one end of the dorm to the other with a piece of toast in his teeth and his red cloak pulled on backwards.

Once Roy was sure he wasn't bleeding, he had the sense to blearily ask, "The hell's going on…?"

"You two still hadn't arrived so I came to find out what the holdup was only to see neither of you had woken up," Alphonse explained hurriedly. "I woke brother first since he gets up really slow, but he's doing…that…and, well, you need to get dressed quickly!"

"You shoulda got him up first!" Edward called from the bathroom. "He's about as coordinated as a fish on rollerblades at this time of the morning!"

Roy flung back his sheets and made for the ladder, stubbing his toe on the railing and falling on his rump. Alphonse sweated (somehow) and stood awkwardly in the bedroom.

Edward would have laughed had he not been garbling something unintelligible about orange juice and toothpaste.

Roy snatched his uniform jacket from a nearby hook and wrenched open the drawer containing his shirts, having slept in his uniform trousers after a shower out of a desire for greater cold prevention. The drawer came out of the cabinet under the wild force and spilled its contents over the floor, but that was the least of Roy's concerns.

He almost strangled himself removing his singlet and spent the better part of their preparation time searching for a pair of ignition gloves before remembering he had some stowed in his pockets. He dropped his watch at one point and stepped on it when he went back to look for it, causing quite a fiasco of hopping and swearing, but eventually he got to the stage where he looked presentable.

Edward, now completely ready, stepped out of the bedroom. "Are you ready? Let's go!"

Roy grimaced as Alphonse walked up behind him.

"Y'know, there's no way even I could be this clumsy this early…" he complained. "It's raining, isn't it?"

Edward blinked and pushed open the door.

Sure enough, the steady downpour of warm, wet drops typical of summer rain had turned the base to a smudge of grey outside. The concrete paths harboured a smattering of vengeful puddles and the tough boots of platoons of early trainers had churned the training grounds to brown mush mixed with grass.

Edward shrugged and let out a sigh. "Good old East, huh? Gotta love the year-round soaking, am I right?"

Alphonse laughed half-heartedly. "Well, at least the frogs will have fun."

"Yeah. It looks totally awesome."

"I'm getting an umbrella," Roy deadpanned.

* * *

"I hate my life. I hate my job, I hate my friends, I hate my co-workers, I hate everyone else I know and don't know and I _really_ hate the rain."

"Is that so, sir?" Hawkeye asked, very mildly interested in her superior's complaints.

"…Probably not entirely. But I do have a bone to pick with the miserable weather of this damned city," Roy decided, folding his arms in the back seat of the small car the two were driving in. The lieutenant, as Roy's assistant, had received a request to escort the colonel and his 'son' Edward to the location of the next stage of the contest. The young blond alchemist was the third occupant of the small car, sitting just opposite Roy with his black coat and unruly bed-head.

"Quit your whining, Mustang," said teenager drawled, doodling in the condensation on the windows. "Our situation could be a lot worse."

"Oh, do enlighten us, great Fullmetal."

"For starters, Alphonse could be crushed in here with us. It could be a lightning storm. You could have lost your umbrella. And neither of our old wounds are acting up in the rain." The boy raised an eyebrow as he ticked the things off on his fingers.

Roy closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the window. "I suppose you're right."

"Oh, and we could be running an _uphill_ track in this. It's on level ground, at least."

Roy's eyes opened with a cold glare at the rushing landscape. "Do not make me think about what we're about to do."

"Given that we're gonna be _feeling_ this run, I wanna get as much _thinking_ out of the way beforehand," reasoned Edward.

"I have no idea what that logic was but you knock yourself out, kid," muttered the colonel, wondering what would happen if he just opened the door right now and rolled away down the road in the opposite direction.

The rain continued to fall, its warm, heavy body soaking the earth thick as any blanket. Roy liked to watch it, but the knowledge of the fact he and Edward had to run twenty kilometres in it made his heart sink right through his boots, down past the bottom of the car and onto the road to be left behind in the hazy sheet.

At least it got out of the run.

Gradually, the concrete greys and brick reds of East City disappeared into the distance along with the remains of Roy's spirits. Structured lines became tangled and bright as the red of buildings became the green of foliage and the grey of concrete became the brown of mud. They'd left the city for a countryside blurred behind a sheet of warm precipitation.

_Oh well_. Roy twisted his legs restlessly. _The most I can do is enjoy the car trip._

The man shifted to a comfortable position, propping his elbow against the bottom of the window and placing his chin in his palm. With a quick sigh, he allowed the rushing landscape to lull him into a state of drowsiness.

Eyes half and heavy lidded, he glanced towards Edward and gave a slow blink akin to a movement a cat would make. Though where cats did it to show trust, he did it to show he was half-asleep with tiredness.

Though tired, his eyes didn't let him down in the observation department. He saw Edward's left arm gently massaging the thigh of his half-missing leg and vowed to keep a close eye on the boy. If his stumps began to act up, this stage of the competition would be hell for them both – Edward having to put up with the pain and Roy having to watch him suffer.

He slid his weary focus back onto the soaking landscape outside. It looked soggy and miserable. Just like he felt. And he'd probably look that way soon too.

"About five minutes until arrival, sir," Hawkeye told him, snapping him back to wakefulness.

"Noted," he replied lowly, folding his arms. "Edward, when we're running this thing I'd like for you to stick close to me. I don't care how fast you think you can run or how slow my pace may be, you are to stay by my side. Understood?"

"No, not understood!" Edward said sharply, sitting forward. "If you're giving ground to the competition, I ain't holding back! There's no way I'm losing to that Lightning jerk! Why the hell should we throw the race like that?"

Roy pointed at Edward's leg with a lethargic finger. "Number one, that leg. If the pain worsens to an extent that you can no longer walk, you would find yourself alone in a wet forest with no way of contacting others but to wait until the next competitor came by. And they might not even help. Even if they did, there's no easy way for you both to get to either end of the track – unless you fancy having one of the Fergusons carry you there."

"How did you—"

"Two, in this weather and foliage, it won't be hard to lose the track. One of us going missing in the middle of the race is the last thing we need."

"Like I'd ever—"

"Thirdly, the other teams will likely be running together too. Most of them will probably move at the same pace, and I can't see Tyrell going ahead without his father or Ulfric leaving Felix to run by himself."

"Yeah, but—"

"Four, morale. This is a long run, so there's nothing to say either of us won't be inclined to simply stop halfway and try to think of an easier way out that would probably get us disqualified. If we're running at the same pace, both of us will be competitively engaged with one another and therefore compelled to run the race to beat each other."

"…"

"And the final reason." Roy turned to the window as Hawkeye swung them onto a lane that had once probably been dusty and full of potholes, but was now a mess of mud and puddles. "This event is nearly completely isolated. It's the perfect situation for any of the other teams to make a move against us and make it look like an accident. Whether it's the other Amestrians trying to get a leg up or the foreigners trying to take us down… Don't give me that look. You know as well as I do that appearances aren't always an accurate reading of personality or alliances."

"So you think there's a chance we might get ambushed and pushed off a cliff by _Felix_?"

"Did I specify the kid? No. I just like to be on guard. Our defences will be stronger if we stick together. And besides, I…" Roy trailed off. He shook his head once in a quick, decisive movement that indicated whatever he had been about to say was no longer required.

"You what? What is it?" Edward asked, cocking his head. "You don't think you could take them?"

"No, I know I could," he replied evenly. His voice darkened. "Just not…"

"Not on a day like this," Hawkeye finished. "He's no more than dead weight when it comes to wet weather, remember?"

Roy made a soft noise like a grunt crossed with a moan.

"Ri-i-ight," droned Edward, a vicious leer tearing across his face. "Not such a tough guy now, are ya, Colonel?"

"It's not my fault the most powerful form of alchemy known to man came with such a fatal crux!"

"But it _is_ your fault you haven't corrected it yet, right?"

"Shut your—" Roy was swiftly cut off as the car hit a particularly deep pothole that sent the back left of the car jerking up and down to smash the man's head into the ceiling.

Edward cocked his head as the man slumped sideways, a lump the size of Armstrong's moustache forming amidst his black bangs.

"Will he be okay?" he asked, pointing.

"He'll be fine, just give him a minute to recalibrate," Hawkeye replied with the slightest of amused smiles. Edward swore she enjoyed mocking the colonel about his rain issue even more than he did. "I think the weather's messing with the wiring in his brain."

* * *

Scorching heat he could deal with. Flames tearing at air so dry it cracked with lack of moisture he could suffer through. He had tempered himself to put up with backlashes of stinging hot air through every snap of his fingers.

So when it came to the end, and if it came to an afterlife, he was confident he'd at least suffer a little less than the others within the fiery hell he'd likely be condemned to for all he'd done.

But if hell was custom built to perfectly torture those like himself who had committed the ultimate crime, then he would find his eternal punishment in pain like this.

Yes…this was the ultimate torture.

The searing pain like fire on Roy's skin had been transferred within his body so that each panting breath was like breathing hot coals. He was gasping in air as fast as he could to keep up with the demands of his body, but each breath seemed futile in the vortex of burning muscles.

His arms and legs ached with the need to stop, to fall to the ground and just _lay_ there. His limbs were desperate to escape the strain of the run, to halt the endless cycles of stepping and swinging. Each movement hurt. Each step forward burned through his legs but he wouldn't stop.

Rain had permeated his clothes and stuck his shirt to his skin. His black hair clung annoyingly to his face, getting in his eyes and streaming water down his cheeks. His face radiated heat, but the rain wasn't cold. Summer rain did nothing to cool anyone.

He was soaked in moisture, a mix of the rainwater and sweat. He hated the way it felt, sticky water clinging to your skin like a coat you could never pull off. It felt warm and revolting, like a clinging creature bent on wrapping itself around you and pressing to your skin like a watery blanket.

He hated the rain. _Oh_, he _hated_ the rain.

His jacket hung at his waist like a clinging hopeless, a man without legs or life. How he longed to just cast it aside…but his last shreds of pride as a soldier kept him from doing so.

His mind was a complete blank, all thoughts being chased out by the burning in his body. His mind was blank, but that kept him going. The less he thought about his pain, the less he thought about giving up. The burning made it clear there was no time for thought.

_Finish. Finish the race and the pain will end._ Those were the only words cycling in his mind now. He had no idea who was in the lead, how long or how far they'd ran or even what the point of it was anymore.

_Finish. Finish and you can rest. The pain will stop._

His glazed eyes slid back into focus. _Yes_, he thought. _Finish_.

It had been a long time since the colonel had pushed this hard.

And he just wanted it to be over.

"Hey…"

Roy turned his head backwards. That one gasped word was the first noise he'd heard apart from breathing in what felt like the last two days.

"…?" He made an incoherent grunting noise in response.

"Maybe we could…slow down here?" Edward continued. "Been jogging…for ages now…"

Roy nodded, slowing his pace. As he lost his rhythm, the distance they'd run began to catch up and he eventually stopped under the cover of a large oak tree.

Edward folded his arms behind his head and looked to the sky, rain splattering his face as he evened out his breathing. _Damn_, resting felt good.

Roy doubled over, chest heaving. This sensation brought back memories from his academy training long ago. It was also very painful.

"You oughtta…straighten up…" Edward panted. "It's better for ya."

Roy nodded, holding up one finger and closing his eyes. With a painful cough, he responded, "Yeah…gimme…a sec…"

After a minute or so of the two catching their breath, the man stood straight and flicked his wrists. "Whew!" he exclaimed. "I think I lost my sense of being somewhere along this track."

Edward nodded in agreement. "It's harsh, isn't it? Probably worse considering we're now basically running through a swamp."

"Mm-hm. I'd kill for something to drink…"

Edward smirked, a large droplet of water running down the side of his face. "Good thing for you _I'm_ here, huh?"

Roy watched him drop to his muddy knees and clap his hands against the earth. There was a pop and a flash of zapping reaction that sent Edward's bangs splaying around his face wildly. The boy's red cloak had been left back at the starting line with Lieutenant Hawkeye, but his short black jacket was in a sorry state. It was tied around his hips and splattered with dirt, much the same as half his trousers. Roy thought the boy's smaller stature might have something to do with the matter and was thankful he'd managed to keep his uniform relatively clean thus far. His boots had received a fair smattering, however.

Edward's sparking reaction died down and he picked up the product out of a dip in the ground.

"Ta-da," he proclaimed, presenting two stone cups filled to the brim with cold, clear water. "Water!"

"Are you sure this is safe to drink?" Roy asked, scrutinising the water as Edward handed it to him.

"Sure as Lieutenant Havoc loves his cigarettes," the young alchemist stated. "This is the good cold stuff, straight from underground. Made sure to filter it. A dog could pee on that ground and I'd still be able to make something drinkable."

"Thanks for the image…" Roy said, frowning.

"Yeah," Edward took a swig. "I made sure to study how to get water from underground like this after Al and I got stuck in the middle of a desert trying to find Liore. I swear I almost died of dehydration…"

Roy shrugged and put his faith in his teammate. "Alright, if you say it's safe to drink, I'll trust you. But if I die from some horrible dog-piss disease tomorrow, I'll know who to blame."

Edward grinned. "Can dogs die from drinking dog piss?"

Roy shrugged. "Well if they don't, at least we'll know we're both safe."

"You got me."

After the two had spent a few minutes getting their wind back, they decided to at least keep walking until they felt up to running once more.

"How's your leg keeping?" Roy asked, nodding towards Edward's auto-mail.

"Surprisingly, it's doing fine," Edward replied. "There's a bit of a throb, but it's nothing I can't put up with. Though I gotta say, my arm's a little worse for wear."

Roy's eyes narrowed. "You're okay to keep running like that?"

"Hey, relax," Edward replied, jumping over a particularly large puddle. "I told you I'd let you know if it got too much to handle, right? So don't worry! And what about you? How are _you_ coping? You looked like you were gonna pass out back there. I was worried I'd have to carry your sorry ass the rest of the way."

"Hughes says I always look like that when I run long distances," he answered. "He says he thinks my brain goes into auto-pilot when I get bored running."

Edward snickered. "When did you run with him?"

"Back when we were in training," came the response. "The two of us were quite the competitive pair. I guess you could call us rivals, in a sense. Though that helped us improve our skills rapidly, it also meant we never went far without getting in strife."

"Troublemakers?" Edward asked with a glimmer in his eye.

"_He_ was the troublemaker," Roy accused. "Unfortunately for me, he only made that known _after_ he'd sidled me with his friendship. Before I really knew him, I wanted nothing to do with him. I hated him and he likely felt the same. But then we started to discover we had things in common. And then one day we just clicked and were equals."

Edward pondered that.

"Through violence, of course. Though to his credit, that was probably my fault."

"You beat each other up?"

"No. We beat everyone else up. See there was this gang of recruits, a year higher than me I think, they were real up themselves. They were picking on this one other guy, I punched someone, Hughes showed up, there was a gun, and it was all fun and games and vigilante hero stuff until three of us ended up digging holes in the yard as punishment." Roy smiled to himself, his dark hair plastered to his scalp with rain. "Good times."

Edward thought he caught a hint of sadness in that tone, but couldn't be sure.

There were times when he looked at Roy and realised what a jerk he was capable of being and wondered why he even trusted him.

Now was one of the times the reminded him why. One of the times when the colonel acted so undeniably strong and inspiring that it made Edward feel more than a little proud the man considered him a son.

"So you stood up for the little guy, huh?" he said, studying the face that seemed to never give anything away. "Never thought I'd say this about you, but that's pretty cool."

Roy shifted his head from side to side. "I suppose we were. Back before that happened to us…"

"Before what?"

Roy's eyes darkened. "Before our eyes were opened to the truth of it all."

Edward didn't have time to ask what he meant before the colonel shook himself and said, "Ready to run? We're probably slipping behind."

And as if his words had summoned them, the next team appeared right behind them.

Though in the race each of the teams were rivals, was this team their friend between events…or a deadly foe who'd just caught hold of the opportunity of a lifetime?

* * *

**Roy always seems so grumpy nowadays, huh? XD**

**Hope you liked it! Leave a review if you did, or even if you thought it was just 'meh'. Plot has definitely arrived in the next chapter! (Finally!)**

**On a related note, an FFN goer by the name 'Colonel Metal' has started a new FMA roleplay forum to reignite the fandom. It's called 'The Arts of Alchemy' and it's set five years after the Promised Day, when Amestris faces a brand new threat. Check it out if you're into roleplays!**

**As well as that, it was Hetalia Day just before. A bunch of us all got together in the park to celebrate. I Cosplayed Germany 'cause why not. It was so fun! (Austria used me as a footstool though…)**

* * *

**Omake 1!**

"I love you too, brah," Edward said. "No homo."

"What…?" Roy looked at Ed, confused.

"I already got Winry. What about you? You got a bae or nah?"

"A _what_?"

"A bae, ya doot."

"_What has tumblr done?!_"

* * *

**Omake 2!**

After a moment of wondering, Roy decided his plan to roll out of the car and down the road was wiser than living out the trip to the run and grabbed the doorhandle.

"Roy—" Edward was about to ask if he could tag along for the roll, but he was cut off by the man jiggling the handle up and down angrily.

"It's stuck!" he exclaimed, furiously trying to open the door. His frustration quickly melted into panic.

"Mine too! We're trapped!"

"Childlock works wonders," Hawkeye said to herself as the boys started screaming and clawing at the windows.


End file.
